


Out to Sea

by maybe123



Category: Blur (Band), Oasis (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plastic Beach AU, Please Don't Hate Me, appropriating gorillaz lore because I'm uncreative g a r b a g e, but actual gorillaz characters won't show up because I can't be bothered, graphic(ish?) violence against cyborgs, lazy writing, ooc nautical nonsense, set in late 1996, this is getting so much longer than I thought it was going to be jfc, what was that Liam tweet about nerds and hipsters?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe123/pseuds/maybe123
Summary: “Where am I?” Damon asked.“Plastic Beach,” Liam answered, as if it was obvious.“Where?”“Plastic Beach.”Damon groaned. “So I gathered, but where on Earth am I?”Liam scrunched up his face, evidently trying to remember. “Don’t know where exactly. Somewhere in the Pacific, that’s for sure.”“The Pacific Ocean?” Damon echoed in disbelief, his bewilderment mounting as reality began to set in. He looked into Liam’s face. It was completely devoid of any trace of concern for Damon’s state of mind, instead looking rather pleasantly relaxed. Damon narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “How did I get here? Did you fucking kidnap me?”Liam’s smile disappeared. “You think I would do something like that? I saved you, Damon.”AU based on Gorillaz lore in which Liam saves Damon from a kidnapping by a mysterious figure and takes him back to his hideaway on an isolated island. But unfortunately for them both more turmoil and adventure approaches on the horizon.
Relationships: Damon Albarn/Liam Gallagher
Comments: 29
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this won't be everyone's cup of tea and that it is a ridiculous concept so please have mercy on me.
> 
> Also the italicized section at the end is supposed to be a flashback in case that's not clear.

Damon slowly awoke to a dense and humid darkness all around him. He groggily tried to stretch and make sense of his surroundings, but he quickly found that there was little room to move. The sudden panicked realization that he was trapped jolted him fully into consciousness. He flailed his arms and kicked his legs, trying desperately to expand and break the pressure around him, but it remained terrifyingly restrictive. His muscles spasmed intensely and his breathing became ragged and forced, making the air even more hot and thick. He was sure that he was about to lose consciousness until he was jolted by the sickening feeling of being lifted. Next there came a swaying motion that Damon assumed was him being carried. He tried pounding on the walls and screaming, but the swaying continued. His mind began to completely unravel as his hopelessness intensified. Eventually the feeling that he would soon faint returned. He let himself be lulled by the rhythmic movements into semi-consciousness.

An unknown amount of time had passed when he was awoken again by the sensation of intense heat all around him. With each minute, it increased and became more unbearable. His head throbbed painfully and he became drenched in sweat, his skin sticking slickly to the case around him. Damon surrendered to the knowledge that he was going to die, probably by being cooked alive.

But after a short time, the noise of shouting and what sounded like gunshots rapidly firing from somewhere close by brought him out of his stupor. Suddenly the swaying stopped and he felt himself fall to the ground with a bruising thud. In a panic, he tried to scream and thrash again. But within a minute he was yanked up off the ground and violently swung from side to side, indicating that whoever was carrying him was running. The shouting and bullets continued but as time went on the noise stopped and the heat began to decrease, though the intense swaying continued. As relief flooded his body, Damon finally yielded to unconsciousness for the last time.

-

As he awoke again, he felt the repetitive motions stop and the container being gently lowered to the ground. There was the sound of some rustling, until at last the lid was slowly lifted. His eyes burst with sickening pain as sunlight flooded them. He groaned as he covered his face with the palm of his hand and attempted to stretch, his stiff body aching deeply with every slight movement. He gagged on the scent of the air, smelling like toxic rotting seaweed.

“Now then, you look like shite,” he heard a voice say.

“What…who…what…?” Damon hoarsely replied, his throat blazing with pain. Footsteps approached him and he flinched away from them.

“It’s alright Damon, you’re alright now,” the voice said as he felt hands gripping his arms and attempting to lift him, the movement almost causing his hands to uncover his eyes. He weakly tried to wrangle away from his grip. “My eyes,” Damon groaned.

“What is it?”

“The sunlight,” Damon choked out.

“The sunlight?” the voice echoed. “Is it too bright?”

Damon nodded. He felt a hand gently lift his hands and place a pair of sunglasses around his head.

“That better?” Damon wasn’t sure if it made much of a difference, but he nodded anyways, his eyes remaining firmly shut.

“Drink some water,” he said as he helped Damon to sit upright and put a water jug in his hands. Damon desperately began to chug the water, but he felt a pair of hands pull the jug away.

“Drink it slowly,” the voice cautioned.

Damon nodded and sipped the water, though it did little to sooth his blistered throat.

“Right, come on, let’s get inside,” the voice said.

The hands again took the water away and grabbed his arms, forcing him to his feet while his bones cracked painfully. Damon’s arms were placed on his shoulders and they slowly began to walk. His muscles had been tense and constricted for so long, that the sudden relaxation forced his entire body to go permanently lax, as if he was a rubber band that had been snapped back after being stretched too far for too long. There was no way for Damon to move except very slowly and limply.

“This would go a lot easier if you moved your fucking plates,” the voice muttered. Damon attempted to fall into step with him, but he mostly failed. He vaguely listened to him grumble. Even in the overwhelming confusion and pain, he recognized that the voice was familiar and belonged to someone he knew. But he struggled to connect the voice to people he might know. His brain was too focused on trying to ignore the pain and walk to think about much more, so he left it alone.

Damon heard the clanging of a door being opened and shut as the heat of the sun disappeared and was replaced by the soothing coolness of an air conditioned room. The pain in his eyes subsided a bit in the dim light as he was herded into what he assumed was a lift. His eyes began to adjust and he could almost make out shapes again as they left the lift, but his eyelids were heavy. He didn’t bother keeping them open wide enough to see anything. He felt himself being guided to a couch and laid down gently.

“You look pale. Are you about to pass out?” Damon heard him say, but he barely registered it. His mind detached from his surroundings as he drifted into an unconsciousness that for the first time in what felt like decades was not burdened with fear.

-

Damon awoke several hours later to the sound of footsteps pacing nearby. It was clearly the same person from before because he could hear him murmuring to himself, though he couldn’t make out the words. Damon shook his head and opened his eyes. His vision was still blurry and his eyes ached from the glare of sunlight coming from a large window nearby.

“Is anybody there?” Damon called out, his throat aching.

“Fucking hell,” he said. “You’re awake.”

Damon then heard his soft footsteps coming closer until he was standing right in front of him. When Damon’s eyes finally began to focus and see him clearly, he saw that his face was just inches away from his own. The first thing he could properly make out was a pair of blue eyes staring at him from under heavy eyebrows. He blinked and finally saw his face in its entirety, his mouth moving into an unmistakable smirk. Damon’s stomach dropped as he was hit with the realization of who was before him. He sat up in surprise, a small gasp falling from his mouth.

“There you are,” Liam said as he took the sunglasses away from Damon and placed them on his own eyes. “I thought you were fucking dead.”

“Liam?” he choked.

“The very same.”

“What the fuck, Liam?” Damon growled hoarsely. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Liam shrugged, his smirk unwavering. “I live here.”

Damon balked. “You _live_ here?” Damon looked around to take the whole room in. It was shaped like a long, stretched out oval. The layout meant that all of the furniture, just a set of large white couches, a television, and a large stereo system with stacks of records and CD’s littered around it, were awkwardly spaced out in random places. On all sides there were large, floor length windows. Splayed before him he could see a huge expanse of ocean beneath the developing sunset. Nothing looked remotely like anywhere he had ever been.

“Where the hell am I?”

“Plastic Beach,” Liam answered, as if it was obvious.

“ _Where_?”

“Plastic Beach.”

Damon groaned. “So I gathered, but where on _Earth_ am I?”

Liam scrunched up his face, as if he were trying to remember. “Don’t know where exactly. Somewhere in the Pacific, that’s for sure.”

“The Pacific Ocean?” Damon echoed in disbelief, his bewilderment mounting as reality began to set in. He looked into Liam’s face. It was completely devoid of any trace of concern for Damon’s state of mind, instead looking rather pleasantly relaxed. Damon narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “How did I get here? Did you fucking kidnap me?”

Liam’s smile disappeared. “You think I would do something like that? I _saved_ you, Damon.”

“Saved me from fucking what?” Damon demanded. “I swear to God Liam if you and Noel are behind this I’m going to murder the both of you.”

“No, you fucking twat, it weren’t us.”

“If not you lot then who?” Damon spat back.

Liam paused. “Do you really not remember?”

“What is there to remember?” Damon replied angrily. “Being boiled in a pot for God knows how long?”

Liam bit his nails briefly, his eyebrows creasing together. “What’s the last thing you remember before all that?” he asked. Damon closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to recall through all of the haze.

“I was at my flat in London. I was looking out of the window when I smelled something funny and suddenly I was falling and everything went black. Then I woke up in that fucking box.”

“That fucking cunt, I’m going to break his legs,” Liam snarled, startling Damon. “He must’ve gassed you and then stuffed you into the suitcase.”

Damon looked into Liam’s furious scowl. Liam wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions, at least when he was angry which he was most of the time. It was easy to understand what he was feeling just from a single glance at his face. There was no mistaking from his heated glare, balled fists, and ragged breaths that he was genuinely furious. It made Damon’s heart begin to beat wildly.

“I don’t understand,” Damon murmured, slowly beginning to believe that Liam was not behind the ordeal. “Who gassed me?”

Liam began to pace across the room, continuing to bite his nails. “It’s a long fucking story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” Damon countered.

“I can’t just fucking tell you. It ain’t your business and you won’t fucking believe me.”

“I have a right to know,” Damon replied firmly. “You owe me Liam. You brought me here.”

Liam groaned lowly in his throat, but stopped pacing and heavily sat beside Damon, throwing his arm behind the couch. “If you take the piss I’ll throw you into the ocean.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “I won’t, just get on with it.”

Liam chewed on his nails again for a few moments and stared at Damon, evidently trying to come up with the words. He groaned again and laid his head back against the couch.

“One night a little after Noel joined the band, I got well pissed at a pub, right? They threw me out after closing and I was so drunk that I couldn’t hardly walk. I found my way into an alleyway for a piss and there was this daft looking cunt fucking about in the shadows like a pervert. I told him to fuck off, but he started talking about music and being a rock star and that. I don’t even remember what he said or what we did. All I remember is waking up in me bed the next day. But now he’s back.”

“He’s back?” Damon questioned. “What do you mean?”

Liam exhaled slowly, staring blankly into space. “He says I owe him and I have to pay him back.”

“Pay him back for what?”

“He says that I sold him my soul that night,” Liam said lowly. “In exchange for Oasis becoming mega. Now he’s chasing me down because we’ve made it and he wants me to give what he says I owe him.”

Damon creased his eyebrows, trying to make sense of his words. “You can’t be serious,” Damon said, smiling reflexively. “Where did you come up with all that?”

Liam sat up and frowned angrily. “Fuck off, why would I make this up? You think I’m some fucking kid trying to tell scary stories? I’m being fucking hunted down and you’re laughing about it, dickhead.”

Damon quickly tried to neutralize his expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, but nothing you’re saying makes any sense.”

“I don’t give a fuck whether it makes sense or not,” Liam replied venomously. “Everywhere I go he’s there trying to get me. That’s why I’m on this shit uncharted island in the middle of the fucking ocean ‘cause he can’t find me here.”

Damon looked at Liam. His eyes were darting around the room and his jaw was clenched tightly. He couldn’t think of a time that Liam had look so tense. It dawned on him that Liam was sincerely frightened. Damon had never seen him like that before, wasn’t even certain if he was capable of it. “What will he do if he catches you?” Damon asked after a beat.

“He’ll drag me down into Hell,” Liam replied curtly.

Damon’s eyes grew wide. “Jesus fucking Christ, Liam.”

Liam just leaned his head back against the couch with a stony expression.

Damon began to rub his temples, feeling a headache beginning to loom. “Why am I here then? What do I have to do with this?”

“Right, well, that’s where it gets more complicated,” Liam continued. “I was watching telly one night when a news story came on saying that you had been filed as a missing person. They had this shitty security camera picture of a so-called _suspicious person_ with a suitcase leaving your flat around the time you disappeared. And it was fucking him. The Boogieman. I figured then that he had kidnapped you.”

Damon balked. “But why the hell would he kidnap me?”

“I ain’t entirely sure,” Liam explained. “But I think that he’s trying to get me out of hiding. He knew that if he kidnapped you I would have to go get you.”

Damon stared at him for a moment in confusion. “Really?”

Liam shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you come get me?”

Liam scowled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you fucking hate me.”

Liam shrugged and refused to say more.

Damon sighed, the confusion making the tension in his head worse. “What did you do after you figured that he kidnapped me?” Damon asked. “Where did you find me?” Damon felt that he might know the answer, his mind anxiously wandering through the hot darkness that he had been submersed in just a short time ago.

Liam sighed, still fidgeting. “He didn’t exactly leave us a roadmap. But I knew that he was going to try to take you into Hell, just to make his job catching me easier. I managed to catch up to him before he crossed the Acheron and took you into Hell proper and then I gave him a good crack and fought him off and took you back here.”

“I was in Hell?” Damon said slowly.

“Technically not since you hadn’t crossed the river and gotten to the bits where all those poor cunts get tortured for eternity,” Liam said measuredly. “That made it a lot easier to get you.”

“That can’t be possible,” Damon countered, shaking his head. He looked at Liam, waiting for him to break out laughing about how easy it had been to get him to believe that his prank was actually orchestrated by demons. But instead Liam was staring at him with knitted brows and a tightlipped frown. As he looked at his dazed and ragged reflection in Liam’s sunglasses, Damon realized that there was a part of him, larger than he would admit, that knew that Liam would never try to hurt him, let alone torture him, though he wished to God he had. A prank would be so much easier to accept than being dragged to Hell.

“It’s okay Damon,” Liam said as he grabbed his shoulder, sensing his growing distress. “He won’t get to us here.”

“I have to go home,” Damon answered firmly, rubbing his forehead to try to soothe his headache. “Take me back now.”

Liam clenched his jaw briefly. “You can’t go home, Damon.”

“Why the fuck not?” Damon asked aggressively.

“Cause it ain’t safe,” Liam answered firmly. “We don’t know if he will try to kidnap you again, or worse. If you stay here he won’t get you.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“He doesn’t know where you fucking are, man,” Liam replied. “Back in England or wherever, you’ll be followed by fucking reporters and photographers all the time. He’ll know exactly where the fuck you are before you even set foot in London and he’ll throw you right back into Hell. But if you stay here, he won’t be able to find you.”

“But at home there’s police and armies and priests or whatever you need to fight this guy off.”

“Do you really think anybody is going to believe you? They’ll throw you in a loony bin, if he doesn’t get you first.”

“But what if he finds us here?” Damon demanded, his impatience growing. “How do you know he won’t track us? What will we do then? We’re in the middle of the bloody ocean with nowhere to go!”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Liam said, annoyance present in his voice. “We have protection.”

“Protection?” Damon echoed. “What fucking protection?”

“We have a bodyguard,” Liam replied, a mischievous smirk threatening to develop. Damon furrowed his brow as Liam shouted a bit louder than he needed to, “Noel! Get the fuck in here!”

Damon heard heavy footsteps entering the room. He turned his head and was startled to see Noel standing in the archway at the end of the room. His face was a blank scowl and did nothing to acknowledge Damon as his eyes settled on Liam.

“Noel?” Damon breathed. “You’re here too?” Noel’s eyes shifted towards him, his expression unchanged. As he looked in Noel’s eyes he saw that there was something eerie about them, like they held no shine or depth. “What…what’s going on?” Damon asked anxiously, his wide eyes whipping around to face Liam, who was still smirking annoyingly.

“Don’t lose your tits; he’s a robot here to protect us,” Liam replied. “He was built by using DNA, see. And I had some of our kid’s from a few hairs that I found on one of my anoraks.”

“What the fuck,” Damon drawled.

“He’s an expert sniper,” Liam continued. “And he’s ten times as strong and fast as anybody. He’s constantly surveilling the island and he can defend us no matter what happens. With him around we got nowt to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Damon scoffed. “What about the fact that I have to stay on this island for the rest of my life? Do you really think this is sustainable?”

Liam clenched his jaw. “Listen, I have been trying to sort out a plan, and Noel is back on the mainland helping us. We’ll have it sorted soon.”

“What am I supposed to do until then?” Damon asked. “Just sit here and wait?”

“Yeah, man,” Liam answered. “Until it’s safe to leave.”

Damon shook his head as panic began to set in. “I can’t stay here.”

Liam furrowed his brows. “You can go home soon. We just have to sort this out.”

Damon sunk his face in his hands. His heart was beating wildly as his chest constricted painfully. Breathing suddenly became difficult, as if his lungs were being squeezed. “Liam,” Damon groaned, refusing to take his head out of his hands. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

Liam shook his head. “No, you’re not. Try to breath, alright?”

"I can’t. I’m going to pass out.”

“You won’t,” Liam promised firmly. “Just breathe and focus on that.”

Damon nodded, his heartrate beginning to slow as he filled his aching lungs with air. But as the adrenaline left his system, his headache throbbed painfully and threatened to become a migraine.

“Fucking hell,” Damon groaned as his stomach cramped and a sudden wave of nausea flared. He wrapped his arms around his midsection and bent over helplessly.

“Fuck, you’re really sick, aren’t you?” Liam asked.

“I, uh…oh Christ,” Damon moaned as the pressure began to build. He finally doubled over and began to heave.

“It’s alright Damon, you’re alright,” Liam said as he sat up immediately and threw an arm around his shoulders. A few moments later, Damon was vomiting onto the white rug beneath the couch. Damon struggled for a minute to expel everything and then sat back against the couch, groaning. Without thinking, he leaned his head over and placed it on Liam’s shoulder. Really it was more on his chest, since he remained mostly doubled over while grabbing his stomach, practically in a fetal position. Damon felt Liam hesitate a moment before relaxing into the contact.

As Damon struggled to control his stomach and the pounding in his head, he heard Liam ask Noel to get him some water and toast.

“I can’t eat anything,” Damon moaned when Noel returned and offered him a piece of toast with an even slather of butter.

“Just eat one bite,” Liam reasoned. “And then see how you feel.”

“You’re not my fucking mum,” Damon snapped.

“Don’t be a fucking twat,” Liam barked. “Fucking eat it before I force it down your throat.”

Damon glared at Liam, but sat up and forced himself to take a small bite.

“Good lad,” Liam said, smiling annoyingly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Damon said as he slowly took another bite, feeling thankful that he wasn’t dry heaving again.

“Have some water.” Liam handed the glass from Noel to Damon. Damon knew that he should be disturbed and confused by Liam’s uncharacteristic thoughtfulness and care, but it was comforting. It made him feel less scared and he didn’t have the energy to truly process the unanswered questions and implications. But in the absence of the nausea the exhaustion set in and made his lingering headache throb. Liam asked Noel to clean the mess on the rug. He gave his curt nod and left the room to gather the necessary cleaning supplies.

“I wouldn’t say no to a bed now,” Damon said after finishing his toast and drinking the water. Liam nodded and sat up, causing Damon to fall over and sink into the cushions a bit.

“Come on, up you get,” Liam said as he leaned over and grabbed a hold of Damon’s arms, heaving him up and onto his feet. His legs were still unsteady and weak and he began to fall until Liam caught him and swung his arm around his shoulders. “I got you.”

They slowly limped their way to the archway that led to the very center room of the building, which was in the shape of a circle with a single round window. In the middle of the room was a cylinder that reached from the floor to the ceiling. A set of steep steps winded its way around the cylinder to a hatch in the ceiling.

“Where does that lead to?” Damon asked.

“The roof,” Liam huffed as he guided Damon to the lift doors that were on the other side of the cylinder. After traveling down a story or two, the doors opened to reveal a room identical to the one upstairs with doors in the place of archways. Liam dragged Damon into a spacious room that was in the same oval shape as the living room. There was a large bed in its center, a desk, a stereo system, and the same wall length widows on all sides. After depositing Damon on the bed and turning on a lamp on the nightstand and finally taking off his sunglasses, he drew the curtains, leaving the room in darkness.

“Are you going to sleep in your kit?” Liam asked after Damon threw the duvet over himself.

“It’s quite silly of me, I forgot to pack a set of pajamas,” Damon replied sarcastically.

“Or you could just wear nowt.”

Damon tried to glare at him, but couldn’t help smirking. “Not likely.”

“I’ll get you a pair of trackies.”

“Don’t bother,” Damon answered, closing his eyes. “I’ll be asleep by the time you get back.”

Liam shrugged. “I’m in the room by yours. Give us a shout if you need owt.”

“Alright,” Damon replied, already feeling himself drifting off. “Thank you, Liam.”

Right as Damon was falling asleep Liam leaned forward and kissed him briefly. Had he been more conscious, he would have been alarmed, but the sensation was so familiar that he felt himself smiling instead.

“Goodnight Damon.”

“Goodnight love.”

-

_Damon had been dreading the charity football match ever since he had gotten dragged into being a part of it. He was more than happy to do anything for charity, so he didn’t turn it down when his publicist signed him up for it and mentioned that Liam was going to be doing it too. But that didn’t mean he had to look forward to seeing him. Each of the few times in the past months that they had come face to face at award ceremonies and press events had always involved strained words and insults and Liam’s glares. Of course the supposed rivalry made it easy to brush it off publicly. But privately, each incident made Damon feel hurt, angry, and guilty._

_Damon replayed the memories of Liam’s hate filled glances as he walked onto the field. Despite the pangs of anxiety, he scanned his surroundings until his eyes settled on Liam’s profile, who at the moment was talking to Patsy amongst the swarm of celebrities and reporters. As if he could sense him, Liam turned his head and made eye contact with Damon. He panicked a little on what to do next before settling on a slight smile. He waited for Liam’s sneer, but instead his face broke into a grin. Liam turned away from Patsy and made his way to Damon. He froze and stared at him with wide eyes as he walked over._

_“You’re looking fit,” Liam said as he leaned into Damon’s frame._

_"Uh, well, thank you,” Damon stuttered. “You as well.”_

_“‘Course I do,” Liam replied._

_“How’s Noel?” Damon asked after a beat._

_"Same cunt as ever.”_

_"And Patsy?” Damon met her annoyed gaze. Obviously, she was not pleased that her fiancé was ignoring her in favor of someone he claimed to hate._

_"She’s a laugh,” Liam shrugged. “How’s Alex and the ginger fella?”_

_"They’re alright.”_

_“And Graham?” Liam asked._

_Damon frowned at him for a moment. “He’s doing fine as far as I can tell.”_

_"As far as you can tell?” Liam repeated. “You in the middle of a row?”_

_Damon pressed his lips into a hard line. “It’s a long story.”_

_"Why don’t you tell me about it over a pint, yeah?”_

_Damon met Liam’s gaze again, taking a moment to consider what to say. Liam stared back at him with his usual confidence and swagger. But his attitude was considerably different from the last few times they had met. In those instances Liam’s anger was palpable to the point that Damon could feel it in his bones the moment he saw him from across the room. But in this moment he seemed to have returned to his unique brand of charm and humor. It was refreshing, but it also made Damon anxious, sensing that it could very well be a trick._

_"Why?” Damon asked._

_Liam shrugged. “No harm in having a chat, right?”_

_"No harm?”_

_Liam nodded. “We’re mates, ain’t we?”_

_“No, I don’t think we are.”_

_“Come on, don’t be a cunt,” Liam said, smirking._

_“What do we have to talk about?”_

_"That stupid fucking earring you still have for one thing.”_

_"Liam, be serious.”_

_"I am being serious, me,” Liam responded, leaning in even further. “Just come off it and have a drink with me.”_

_Damon eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not going to try to have a go at me, are you?”_

_Liam laughed. “If I wanted a go you’d be on your arse by now.”_

_Damon smiled. “That’s not how I remember things usually turning out.”_

_“I’d watch your words and we’ll see how the match goes then, mate,” Liam replied, but for the first time in a long while his words didn’t hold any bite._

_-_

_Damon listened to Liam chatter about a long list of random topics, Noel, Patsy, drugs, Noel, touring, the Beatles, and Noel, as he poured more beer. They had never ended up at a pub, both knowing it would be a nightmare to be seen together and end up all over the tabloids the next morning. So they went to Damon’s flat and continued to get pissed in his kitchen._

_Liam leaned against the counter by the sink as he talked, a cigarette in one hand and a beer glass in the other. Damon smiled as he watched him gesture enthusiastically. It reminded him of when they had first met. It had been so easy to talk to him then, even though they were so different that they could have come from other planets. Perhaps it was just attraction, complementing senses of humor and attitudes, or they both simply didn’t give a fuck._

_But he was still confused by Liam’s sudden change of attitude. At the match he didn’t bully or insult him, at least not maliciously. Now in his kitchen he seemed relaxed and happy and it was easy to settle in to a comfortable flow of conversation. But none of it made any sense, especially considering the Gallagher tendency to hold onto grudges. Damon decided to write it off as Liam simply not caring anymore or perhaps he was just off his head. But he also knew that Liam’s mood was prone to changing at the blink of an eye. For the time being though it was a relief to have the opportunity to talk to him and ease the tension. It seemed almost possible that they could become friends the drunker they got and the less sense their conversations made._

_Damon cocked his head as Liam swallowed down his beer and the clock struck 1 AM, records blasting from the living room. “You should have a haircut,” he said while the conversation lulled. “Your hair is too long.”_

_"Fuck off,” Liam replied as he took a drag from his cigarette._

_"I’m serious. And you should grow your eyebrows out more.”_

_"The fuck are you on about?”_

_"They’re not as thick as they used to be. You had them plucked, didn’t you?”_

_“No I haven’t, you twat,” Liam replied, aggressively pointing his cigarette at him. “Our kid has though. It’s them fucking stylists, man, trying to appeal to the Americans and that. It made no fucking difference though. He still looks like a right knobhead no matter what they do.”_

_“You could shave them off completely, try to pull a Bowie look.”_

_"Me or Noel?”_

_"Mmh, both.”_

_Liam scoffed. “Think what shit the papers would say. First the Beatles, now the Gallagher’s have moved on to rip off Bowie, fucking hell.”_

_Damon laughed. Liam peered at him for a moment. “You got a monobrow yourself, lad.”_

_“I do not,” Damon replied defensively._

_Liam smirked as he took another drink from his beer. “Won’t lie to you.”_

_“Oh, you wouldn’t?” Damon replied, smiling. Liam shook his head. Damon watched him as he swallowed down the remnants of his beer._

_“Can I ask you a question then?” Damon asked as he went to his fridge to get him another one._

_"Yeah.”_

_Damon hesitated for a moment as he took Liam’s glass and poured the beer and handed it back. “Why are you talking to me really?”_

_Liam shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I?”_

_"Because you’ve made it very public that you hate me,” Damon replied as he leaned against the counter across from Liam_

_"Don’t get your knickers in a twist, man,” Liam laughed. “It’s all a joke.”_

_"It never felt like a joke when it came to you.”_

_“Not my fault if you can’t handle the rock and roll.”_

_Damon bit the inside of his lip, but willed himself to let it go, knowing it wasn’t the time to snap at Liam. He sighed._

_“Does this mean that we’re alright?” Damon finally asked._

_“Don’t get all weepy eyed now,” Liam mocked. “Just forget about it, man.”_

_Damon frowned, unconvinced. The unanswered questions hung heavily in the air. He pushed them aside for the time being since it was clear that Liam wasn’t willing to explain. But it also occurred to Damon that maybe he was just overthinking it. Perhaps Liam truly only wanted to start speaking to him again because he could and it didn’t have to run that deep, at least not anymore. Damon shook his head, trying to stop all of the thoughts from piling on top of each other. He sipped at his own glass and waited for Liam to start speaking again._

_"Where’s Justine?” he finally asked._

_Damon shrugged. “Fuck knows.”_

_“Did you split up?”_

_"I don’t know,” Damon sighed. “Maybe.”_

_“What about Graham?” Liam asked. “Does he ever come by?”_

_Damon exhaled slowly. “Occasionally.”_

_Liam looked at him quizzically. “The papers say your band’s going to split up.”_

_“No, we’re not. We just need some time to sort out what we want to do next.”_

_"But you are having a row?”_

_Damon frowned. “You should know more than anyone not to believe the tabloids.”_

_Liam glared at him. “I’m just trying to help you, mate. You can talk to me.”_

_Damon exhaled sharply, biding his time. “We’re just each in different worlds right now.”_

_"Even you and Graham?”_

_Damon looked at him and clenched his jaw. “I don’t want to talk about it.”_

_“You’re not fucking anymore then?”_

_“Christ, Liam,” Damon said, taken aback for a moment. He shook his head and felt a wave of anger spread through his gut. “Fuck off.”_

_"Steady on, it’s true, innit?”_

_“No, of course not,” Damon replied heatedly, starting to feel his face flush. “It’s none of your fucking business anyways.”_

_“Not my business?” Liam echoed, as he stubbed out his cigarette on the counter top. He straightened up and stepped forward to sneer into Damon’s face. “We fucked first, why shouldn’t I know who you’re bumming?”_

_"Fuck you,” Damon stood up straighter, trying to tower over Liam as much as he possibly could. “What makes you think you can say shit like that to me?”_

_Liam scoffed. “Come off it.”_

_“No, Liam,” Damon said, shaking his head. “You can insult me and my band in the papers and on the telly all you fucking want. But trying to insert yourself into my private life is crossing a line. You have no right.”_

_"Why?” Liam taunted. “You scared I’ll have a chat with the papers about you and your boyfriend?”_

_Damon breathed heavily into his face, ready to throw him out of his flat. But then a thought occurred to him and he eased his head back, a smug smile spreading across his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous.”_

_Liam’s eyes grew wide. “Fuck off, prick. From what I remember, you were the one who couldn’t stand the thought of me fucking other people.”_

_Damon shrugged. “I’m not the one trying to sort out who I’m shagging.”_

_Liam scowled viciously. “Fuck you.”_

_"Are you trying to see if I will shag you again?” Damon laughed, watching the angry flames brighten in Liam’s eyes. “‘You been missing me that much then?”_

_"You fucking cunt,” Liam spat._

_“I’m going to tell you the truth, Liam,” Damon said, cutting him off before he could say more. “I don’t want you in my life.”_

_Liam froze then, his shoulders suddenly lowering and his face relaxing into a blank expression. Damon had never seen him react like that. Even in their worst moments, he had only ever been angry and belligerent. But suddenly he was quiet and still while his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes grew wider and brighter. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came. A knot formed in Damon’s stomach as he realized that Liam was the image of a child on the verge of tears._

_“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Damon stammered. “I’m so sorry.”_

_Liam suddenly shook his head and his expression was replaced with a furious sneer that was all too familiar._

_“I fucking hate you,” Liam snarled._

_“Look, I didn’t mean-”_

_“I don’t give a fuck.”_

_“Liam, please listen to me-”_

_But_ _before he could continue, Liam lunged forward and placed his lips on Damon’s, their teeth clacking as they came together. It was rough and bruising, more like colliding their faces together than a kiss. It lasted only a few seconds before he pushed Liam away, but Damon could feel his lips sting as he pulled back._

_“What the fuck?” Damon said slowly, feeling like his breath had been sucked out of his lungs. “Why did you go and do that?”_

_Liam glared at him and for a moment Damon thought he was going to hit him. But instead he grabbed the back of Damon’s neck and bent him forward again into a kiss. It was aggressive like the one before it and Damon could almost taste Liam’s anger as he breathed into his mouth. As Liam pushed him back against the counter until its edge was digging into his hips, he tried to grapple with the fact that he should pull away and that whatever was happening wasn’t right, but his mind suddenly couldn’t work properly. Kissing him felt too good. So he gave in to it and opened his jaw wider._

_Liam was always an intense kisser, moving quickly and with clear intentions. But now he was almost frenzied, pushing forward again every time Damon tried to hold back and catch his breath. When Liam started biting down a little too hard on his lip, Damon finally pushed him back a little._

_“Slow down,” he breathed in the little space between them. Liam’s eyes looked foreboding, but he let Damon lean forward and grip his hips and kiss the skin below his ear. But the small respite was soon over and Liam’s hand snaked forward and gripped Damon’s crotch, palming his cock over the fabric of his shorts._

_"Fuck,” Damon hissed before Liam bit down on his neck. Damon tried to get a better hold on Liam’s hips but it wasn’t long until he felt him let go and lower himself to his knees._

_“Jesus, Liam,” he murmured as he looked down at Liam while he settled himself in front of him. “You really don’t have to.”_

_“Shut the fuck up,” Liam spat before pulling down Damon’s shorts. Before Damon could attempt to say anything, Liam took him in his mouth and started sucking, effectively ending all of his coherent thoughts._

_Liam quickly built up a brutal and relentless pace while Damon gripped the edges of the counter until his fingers began to ache. Damon hissed through his teeth the deeper and faster Liam went and tried desperately to keep the groans and panting at bay. But it soon became a losing battle as he felt himself begin to unravel completely after just a few minutes._

_“Fuck,” Damon gasped as he felt himself hit the back of Liam’s throat, which did little to slow him down. “God, I’m going to come.”_

_Liam didn’t make any indication that he cared or even had heard him and didn’t stop sucking as Damon came. But as soon as he was finished Liam pulled away and spat Damon’s come onto his trainers._

_"Liam, what the fuck,” Damon complained indignantly as he tried to get a handle on his breathing. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”_

_But Liam was already standing and walking towards the front door. Damon uttered a swear and pulled up his shorts, scrambling to follow him._

_“Don’t go,” Damon said when he caught up to him, grabbing his arm. “Stay and talk to me.”_

_“Get the fuck off of me,” Liam snarled as he ripped himself away from Damon’s grasp._

_"You can’t just go and do something like that and leave,” Damon snapped._

_"Fuck off.”_

_"No, I’m not taking this bullshit anymore, Liam,” Damon responded aggressively._

_“Bullshit? What fucking bullshit?_

_"Doing and saying whatever the fuck you want without caring what it means to anyone else besides yourself,” Damon replied, the words coming out louder and faster the angrier he got. “What you do has consequences, for yourself and everybody around you, and being a famous rock star won’t save you from everything. You have to grow up and start taking responsibility before you or someone you love ends up hurt and everyone leaves you to rot.”_

_Damon saw the same childlike expression from before flash across Liam’s face for a moment. But this time Damon refused to apologize. He stood his ground and maintained his glare. And again Liam’s face hardened into an intense scowl that betrayed violent thoughts. Damon winced, waiting for a blow. But Liam turned away instead, opening the front door and slamming it behind him and leaving Damon alone in his empty flat._


	2. Chapter 2

_Damon tried to fight off the fatigue as he dragged himself through the streets of Camden and dodged American tourists. He felt so wired that he was painfully aware of each twitch of his muscles but also inexplicably incapable of tricking his brain into sleeping. Weeks of promoting the album, playing gigs, and sucking up to music executives while also trying to write songs and sort out arrangements were starting to take its toll. The work never seemed to be done._

_He knew he should have turned down meeting Graham at the pub when he called, but it sounded a lot more appealing than spending the rest of the day at his flat simmering in his own anxiety. But he concluded that he had made a mistake when he walked into The Good Mixer and found that it was packed. He hoped to God that he wouldn’t run into anyone who might want a chat as he scanned the pub, trying to find Graham._

_He finally found him in a booth in a corner by the pool tables. Sitting in chairs across from him were two men that Damon didn’t recognize. They had their backs turned so Damon couldn’t see their faces, but he could still tell straightaway that Graham was not impressed with them. He wasn’t saying anything, but his creased brow, unblinking eyes, and deep set frown indicated that their conversation was definitely not amicable. Damon groaned internally as he fought his way through the crowd, briefly considering simply turning around and leaving, but he knew that he couldn’t leave Graham to fend for himself. As he came closer, he could hear the two men chanting at Graham to the tune of “Lazy Sunday.”_

_“Blur are cockney, cockney cunts!”_

_Damon rushed over as soon as he heard, deliberately pushing people out of his way._

_“Oi, you two,” he shouted at them. “What the fuck is going on here?”_

_They turned to him then and Damon was met with two identical pairs of brilliantly bright blue eyes and heavy brows. They looked vaguely familiar, but Damon was sure he had not met them before. Both of them were so striking that it would be impossible not to remember them. One of them was especially magnetic. It wasn’t just that he was good looking, but there was something about his demeanor that immediately radiated undeniable style and draw despite the fact that he looked so young. He looked up at Damon, his eyes running up and down his body. His smile became wider and he bit his lip, taking Damon aback._

_“Look Liam, will you, it’s Steve Marriott himself,” the other one of them said, smirking annoyingly._

_“Nah, don’t say that, Noel,” Liam replied. “Marriott knew how to dress, not like this prat.”_

_The both of them were eased back in their chairs with relaxed postures and their legs stretched out in front of them, their lopsided smirks arrogant and smug. In contrast, Graham was sitting rigidly straight and his arms were hanging stiffly on either side with his beer glass filled to the brim and untouched in front of him. The entire scene felt uncomfortable and juvenile, reminding Damon eerily of being in primary school again and getting sized up by bullies. Damon tried to tower over them, not sitting down or changing his expression away from a scowl._

_“Who the fuck are you?” Damon questioned._

_“They’re Noel and Liam Gallagher,” Graham explained, maintaining his indignant stare. “From Oasis.”_

_“Oasis?” Damon echoed. He had heard of them before. They had recently shown up seemingly out of nowhere and gained a devoted following, but he hadn’t bothered to look into them or listen to their music much, assuming they were just another Manchester band blowing through. “What do you want?”_

_“Just to introduce ourselves and have a chat,” Liam answered with faux innocence, batting his eyelashes and licking his lips. “Ain’t that right Graham?”_

_Graham didn’t answer, but Damon had known him long enough to know from his pursed lips that he was furious._

_“Right then, it was great to meet you both,” Damon said quickly. “Now it’s time I think you left.”_

_“Come on, we don’t mean no harm,” Noel teased._

_“What was that about calling us cunts then?”_

_“We were just having a laugh,” Liam replied._

_“They’ve been here for ten minutes,” Graham said through gritted teeth as he tapped his fingers nervously on the table. “And they’ve done nothing but insult me and the band.”_

_Damon creased his eyebrows. “What for?”_

_“I don’t know,” Graham scoffed. “Ask them.”_

_“Trying to play nice and make friends,” Noel said, shrugging. “And to give Graham some advice on where to buy better clothes, that’s all.”_

_“Nah, Noel, don’t lie to them,” Liam laughed before turning to Damon and looking straight into his eyes. “I wanted to make it clear that I think your music is shite.”_

_Damon was taken by surprise by the bluntness of the statement and simply stared at him for a moment. Nobody had ever dared to say something like that to his face, especially after the often forced enthusiasm pushed on him by promoters, managers, interviewers, and producers since the band started to actually take off. But Liam’s overconfident smile brought him back to himself._

_“Duly noted,” Damon replied curtly. “Now fuck off.”_

_“Yeah?” Liam retorted, cocking his head and his mocking smile unwavering. “You gonna make me?”_

_“I fucking could,” Damon spat back._

_“Damon, leave it,” Graham broke in before Liam could respond. “I’ll go talk to the landlord and he’ll get these wankers to leave.”_

_“Ooh, is he gonna save you from all them dirty hooligans?” Noel snickered._

_“No, but he’s going to make sure you never set foot in here or any other pub in Camden again,” Graham answered._

_“Don’t,” Damon said gruffly, the pettiness of the situation beginning to truly grate against his exhaustion. Graham met his eyes, his frustration clear. Damon shook his head and turned to the brothers, trying to stand up straighter. “Look, I’m really shattered right now and I’m in no mood to keep up with your jokes. You’ve had your fun, now can you please just fucking leave so I can have a pint?”_

_“Fuck off,” Liam sneered as he picked up his beer glass. “Someday you’ll be glad that we even took the time with you lot.”_

_Damon’s blood finally began to boil over. He grabbed the back of Liam’s chair and violently yanked it away from the table until it began to tilt backwards dangerously. Liam’s reflexes kicked in and he scrambled to regain his balance and save himself from falling. He shot forward and grabbed at the table but managed to spill his beer allover his button-up in the process._ _Liam was clearly surprised and looked at Damon with wide eyes and an open mouth. Noel immediately shot up._

_“Don’t you fucking touch my brother,” he growled._

_“Fuck you,” Damon shot back. “I don’t have the time to deal with you idiots. You keep going on about our clothes while your trainers are all scuffed up and there isn’t an article of clothing between the two of you that isn’t two sizes too big. Did mummy not have the time to dress you today or something?”_

_Noel’s eyes began to bulge. He aggressively pointed in his direction. “Right, if you’re not careful I’ll fucking have you. Nobody brings my mam into things or insults my trainers.”_

_“Settle down now, I’m not going to fight someone who’s two heads shorter than I am,” Damon taunted. “Wouldn’t be fair, would it?”_

_Noel’s jaw clenched and he looked like he was a moment away from throwing a fist, but before things could truly escalate, Liam broke out laughing. Damon looked down at him in shock, his anger rapidly dissolving into confusion. Noel took turns glaring at Liam, who continued to laugh, and Damon, his flaring nostrils and flaming wide eyes indicating that he was on the verge of murdering them both. Just as he was about to lunge forward a bartender appeared and grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him backwards._

_“Alright, enough,” he said. “Out, both of you, and don’t come back.”_

_Noel tore himself away from the bartender’s grip, briefly looking like a schoolboy after being caught by the headmaster. Damon couldn’t help smiling with satisfaction. “This pub is fucking shite anyroad.”_

_Damon watched as Noel angrily shoved people out of the way and headed towards the door. But Liam lingered behind for a moment._

_“You know what, you’re alright, man,” Liam said, stepping forward until he was hovering close to Damon’s face, again surprising him. Damon had no choice but to study him from that angle, the long eyelashes, heavy brows, thick lower lip, and the eerily vivid blue of his eyes. It was difficult to not be distracted by it._

_“What?” Damon said slowly, a little preoccupied by the sudden heaviness of Liam’s presence._

_“You’re not entirely the cunt I thought you were going to be,” Liam replied, nodding. “You got some attitude in you after all, yeah?”_

_Damon stared at Liam, trying to understand what he might mean. But suddenly his eyes shifted and changed. For a moment it almost seemed like the blue in his eyes was electric, glowing like lights and dazzling Damon. But Liam blinked and it was gone. Damon opened his mouth slightly, trying to form the thoughts and words that might be able to process what had just happened. But Liam smiled and turned to go, leaving Damon reeling behind._

_-_

_Damon had somehow known the next day that he was going to be there. Sure enough, the moment he stepped into The Good Mixer he could sense him, as if he had somehow shifted the atmosphere of the room just by his presence. Damon found him in a corner by the bar, talking to some blond bird. He was smiling and leaning in to her in a way that made it clear that he had one goal in mind with her, which she seemed more than receptive to. Damon rolled his eyes and was about to turn away when Liam finally saw him. He broke off from her mid-sentence and immediately started making his way to Damon, leaving the woman glaring after him behind._

_“What are you doing here?” Damon questioned as soon as Liam was within earshot. “Weren’t you banned?”_

_“You think that was the first time I’ve been thrown out of a pub?” Liam said, coming close enough that Damon could almost feel him breathing into his face, having the same drawing affect as the day before. It was difficult to guess whether he was trying to be intimidating or if it had a friendly implication. Either way Damon’s heartbeat picked up slightly, especially when he looked into his eyes and remembered the lights. He searched for the same phenomenon but nothing happened. “I’d like to see them try it again, the fuckers.”_

_Damon exhaled sharply. “Fine, but why are you here?”_

_Liam shrugged. “I wanted to see you.”_

_“See me?” Damon questioned, furrowing his brow and waiting for the punchline. “What for?”_

_“To apologize for our Noel. He has quite the temper, that one.”_

_Damon pursed his lips. “Shouldn’t you be defending him? He’s your brother.”_

_Liam shrugged. “Yeah and I love the dickhead but I also love to see him get wound up.”_

_Damon raised his eyebrows. “But he stood up for you.”_

_“If he had really kicked off I would have given anybody a crack for him,” Liam replied. “But every now and again it’s good for him to be put in his place a bit. Keeps him from going from just a cunt to a major cunt, you know.”_

_Damon rolled his eyes. “Alright, but what about all the things you said about Graham and my band? Will I get an apology for that?”_

_“I didn’t say nowt that wasn’t true,” Liam said, shaking his head. “It don’t have much to do with you though and Noel likes a few of your tunes. I don’t, me, but you know that.”_

_Damon studied his expression for a moment. It didn’t look smug like the day before, instead looking open and friendly. Damon sighed with resignation, feeling more impressed with his candor than annoyed. “Fine, fair enough.”_

_“You want a Guinness?”_

_“No, Liam, I-”but he was already gone and heading towards the bar. Damon exhaled sharply in exasperation. He sat in a booth before Liam came with the drinks and settled in a little too closely beside him, again unconsciously making Damon nervously aware of his physicality._

_“You should come to our gig tomorrow,” Liam said as he took out his cigarette pack and Damon sipped his beer._

_“I have plans.”_

_“Cancel them.”_

_Damon peered at him as he lit his cigarette. “Why should I want to go see your band?”_

_“Because we’re mega, proper rock and roll.”_

_“Maybe I don’t like rock and roll.”_

_Liam sneered, blowing out smoke. “Course you don’t, fucking art students, you and your lot. We could teach you a thing or two.”_

_“Like what? How to be a football hooligan?”_

_“That and a few other things.”_

_“Such as?”_

_“How not to be a posh cunt and where to have a decent haircut.”_

_Damon couldn’t help but chuckle, a little in surprise and a little at Liam’s arrogance. He put his elbow on the table and supported his chin with his hand, cocking his head a little to study Liam’s profile. “Well, I could teach you something about manners.”_

_“Ooh, manners, is it?” Liam replied in a mocking posh accent. “So I can impress mater and pater?”_

_Damon smirked. “No, so you can learn about being kind.”_

_“Kind? I’m kind, me,” Liam responded defensively. “I’m kind to my Mam, my brothers, my friends, and my fans. Everyone else can fuck off.”_

_“Including me?” Damon asked, smirking._

_Liam paused to stare at him for a moment. “Maybe not if you pay for the shirt you ruined yesterday.”_

_Damon laughed. “Don’t you think it was perhaps a little deserved?”_

_Liam shrugged. “What I deserved was a proper crack. But messing with my gear is another thing altogether.”_

_Damon smiled. “I’ll make it up to you someday.”_

_Liam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, how?”_

_Damon pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Free tickets to a Blur concert maybe?”_

_Liam snorted in disgust. “And have to deal with all them teenybopper fans of yours? Like fuck.”_

_Damon sucked on his teeth. “As far as I can tell we share quite similar fan bases, don’t we?”_

_“Our music isn’t for posh girls still in secondary school looking for a disco,” Liam said, shaking his head. “It’s for everybody else. Anybody who ain’t a miserable old prick with a stick up his arse, that is.”_

_Damon smiled despite himself. He reached for a cigarette from Liam’s pack and lit it. He breathed in deeply and then exhaled the smoke into Liam’s face. Damon laughed as he squirmed._

_“Fuck off, you fucking prick,” Liam growled, waving the smoke away._

_“Aren’t you lovely?” Damon laughed. Liam gave him the two finger salute before taking a swig from his Guinness._

_Damon paused to watch the way Liam’s eyelashes moved as he blinked. His mind anxiously wandered over the memory of the day before and he bit the inside of his lip. He hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a way to slow the thudding in his chest. “Can I ask you something about yesterday?” he finally asked._

_“Yeah, what?”_

_Damon cleared his throat, biding his time and hoping he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself. “Right before you left I was looking into your eyes and I saw that they, uh, changed.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_Damon gnawed on his lip nervously. “They began to glow.”_

_Liam knitted his eyebrows together. “Glow?”_

_“Yeah, like fairy lights, but blue because of your eyes, you know,” Damon answered sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Has anyone mentioned that to you before or is it a condition you have…?”_

_Liam looked at him with a confused expression. “Have you hit your head or summat?”_

_“No, not at all,” Damon replied, looking away and ashing his cigarette to try to hide his embarrassment. “Maybe it was just a trick of the light and, uh, I have been rather tired lately…”_

_Liam paused while a smile began to spread across his face and he cocked his head, biting his lip briefly. “Did you say you were looking into my eyes?”_

_Damon scoffed, though he could feel his face flushing. “It was hard not to while you were hovering like that.”_

_“Rather romantic, isn’t it?”_

_“That’s not what I meant-”_

_“If you wanted a snog you could have just asked, love,” Liam snickered, his eyes bright and widening in mock flirtation. He brought a finger up and briefly dragged it across Damon’s bottom lip. He obviously meant it as a joke, but Damon almost burst out of his skin._

_Damon swatted his hand away and locked his jaw, feeling like a teenager again being teased by a girl he fancied. “Fuck off.”_

_Liam began to laugh and Damon couldn’t help but smile as well while he drank his beer. As they continued to drink he began to feel strangely at ease with Liam, despite his embarrassment. He was forceful, but funny and honest and something about it was undeniably alluring and refreshing, especially in comparison to the boring and stiff pleasantries towards others in the music industry, not to mention the requirement to impress and be impressed. It was often very difficult to figure who was sincere and who just wanted money, fame, or approval, including his own band mates, but Liam wasn’t like that. He was arrogant, but it was clear that it was because he truly believed in himself and not because he wanted to convince other people that they should give him something or that he was someone he wasn’t. The curiosity began to win out and suddenly Damon realized that he didn’t actually have plans after all._

_-_

_Damon had to almost literally twist Graham’s arm to get him to go to the concert with him. He was still sore from their encounter with the Gallagher brothers and was not keen on the idea of giving them money or watching them perform. Luckily for Damon though he already had a few glasses of whiskey in him which made it a bit easier to drag him through the door._

_They were both surprised to find the venue packed. They had to fight their way into having just a bit of room in the very back. As the time for the concert to begin grew closer, the vibrancy and energy of the room built up, the fans chanting and stomping. When the band finally took the stage, Liam came up to the mic and slurred a few words of introduction, clearly a little pissed, but no one seemed to care as they began their first song and Damon and Graham were jostled about by the surrounding crowd._

_The music certainly wasn’t quite Damon’s taste, reminding him of Slade or mid-60’s Who if they had only known four chords and turned up the gain on their amps so high that it made teeth rattle in their sockets. But as the concert progressed Damon began to see the appeal. The music was perhaps unsophisticated and simplistic, but it had a compelling amount of energy and catharsis that made it easy to listen and relate to. But it was Liam’s aggression and confidence that truly made the music convincing and almost mesmerizing. The whole set manifested in him so well, the effortless style and seductive lack of artifice and self-consciousness. As he watched, Damon couldn’t help but be jealous that he was so naturally gifted as a singer and frontman, not to mention the feverish excitement of the crowd despite the fact that they were so new to the scene. Damon knew he was charming and could give good gigs, but Liam obviously didn’t have to try. He was just being himself, no matter how unrefined it might seem on the surface. As the concert neared its end, Damon’s heartrate increased the more he felt drawn into Liam’s performance._

_“What a waste of money,” Graham muttered after the band had left the stage and the crowd began to move towards the exits. “Come on, let’s go have a bevvie at my flat.”_

_“Don’t you want to go backstage and see them?” Damon asked, not moving from his spot. Graham turned to him with knitted brows._

_“No, I don’t,” he answered curtly._

_“Just for a moment, Liam did ask me to come after all.”_

_“Doesn’t mean we have anything to say to them.”_

_“We could tell them that we liked their set.”_

_“But we didn’t,” Graham answered and waited for Damon to agree. “Right?”_

_Damon paused and looked away. “I thought it was alright.”_

_“Alright?” Graham repeated in disbelief. “Don’t you remember them saying our music is shit?”_

_Damon shrugged. “They have a right to their opinions.”_

_“Damon, they’re tossers,” Graham stated firmly. “We don’t owe them anything.”_

_Damon sighed and pressed his lips together. “I just want to say hello, then we can go.”_

_Graham shook his head. “You do that. I’m going home.”_

_Damon watched him disappear into the crowd. For a guilty moment he thought about following him, but decided against it, not in the mood to humor Graham’s temper._

_Getting backstage was no problem, being a famous popstar did have its perks after all, but wading through the sea of roadies, security guards, and girls anxious to catch a band member’s eye was another thing. Unfortunately for Damon, the first person he came across that he recognized was Noel and he did not look happy to see him._

_“Liam told me you might show up,” Noel said, forcefully chewing gum and narrowing his eyes as he watched Damon approach. “But I didn’t think you’d have the bollocks to actually go and do it.”_

_“It’s good to see you again too, Noel,” Damon replied, trying to smile pleasantly. “Glad to know you haven’t been banished from London yet.”_

_Noel shrugged and scratched his nose, snapping the gum. “Not from a lack of trying.”_

_“Where’s Liam?”_

_“Fuck knows. Probably shagging some poor bird in a closet.”_

_Damon grimaced, feeling his stomach flip a little. “Charming.”_

_Noel looked away for a moment. “Oi, there he is,” he said, nodding. Damon turned and saw him talking to the other guitarist in the band in a corner. He was smiling broadly and talking enthusiastically. Noel turned to go. “Don’t come to the after party,” he called as he walked away. “You’re not invited, no matter what our kid says.”_

_“Cheers,” Damon muttered._

_Liam’s smile widened when he saw Damon. He even met him halfway and threw his arms around his shoulders, taking Damon by surprise. “I fucking knew you would come,” Liam said in Damon’s ear, sending shivers down his spine._

_“Bonehead, this is Damon,” Liam said as he dragged him over to the guitarist. “From Blur.”_

_“Blur?” Bonehead responded, raising his eyebrows. “I thought we hated Blur.”_

_“We do, but Damon’s alright. You should have seen how angry he got our kid the other day, it was fucking top.”_

_“I’m glad my reputation precedes me,” Damon sighed._

_“Right then, glad to make your acquaintance,” Bonehead said as he grabbed Damon’s hand and shook it. “I need a piss. See you round.”_

_“Lovely,” Damon mumbled as he walked away. But before Bonehead had taken two steps Liam grabbed Damon’s arm and began to lead him away._

_“I want to show you summat.”_

_“Like what?” Damon said as Liam tugged on his shirt._

_“You’ll see.”_

_Liam herded him into a dark dressing room and shut the door behind them. Damon looked around and didn’t see anything of note._

_“You do realize that I have been in a dressing room before?” Damon said as Liam settled on the couch jammed into the small room._

_“Yeah, you daft cunt,” Liam laughed. “I just wanted to get away from all the people, it was doing my head in.”_

_Damon nodded as he sat beside Liam. The couch was rather small which meant there was little room between them. Damon couldn’t help noting that their shoulders and thighs were touching, though he tried to remember the fact that he had long matured enough to not have to be so self-conscious about it._

_“What did you think of the gig?” Liam asked._

_“I quite liked it.”_

_“Quite?” Liam repeated in disgust, straightening up and frowning. “Do you not have ears? We were fucking godlike.”_

_“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Damon said, smiling. “You were great.”_

_Liam looked at him for a moment, studying him. “You serious?”_

_Damon nodded. “Of course. You have a very unique style, you know?”_

_Liam knitted his brows. “How do you mean?”_

_Damon shrugged and tilted his head. “You just have a very large presence on stage. It really makes the music seem alive.”_

_“Too fucking right,” Liam replied, relaxing a little. “Did Graham come too?”_

_“He did.”_

_“I reckon he didn’t like it.”_

_Damon sighed and scratched the back of his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”_

_Liam sneered. “Figured as much, the cunt.”_

_Damon frowned. “You do realize that Graham is my best mate?”_

_Liam shrugged. “I don’t hold it against you.”_

_“That’s not what I meant.”_

_“What did you mean then?”_

_“I mean that it bothers me when you call him names.”_

_Liam gave a short laugh. “Better I call him a cunt than give him a clip round the ear, innit?”_

_“Liam, I mean it. You’re funny and I like you, but the insults have to stop, at least where it comes to Graham.”_

_Liam cocked his head. “You like me, do you?”_

_“Of course I do, but that’s not the point.”_

_“Well, I like you too, Damon.”_

_“Are you even listening, Liam?”_

_“Course, totally,” Liam said as he fished out a pack of cigarettes from his jeans. “It’s cool, I’ll lay off Graham.”_

_Damon was not convinced, but let it go. He watched him light the cigarette and exhale. He relaxed back into the cushions and threw his arm around the back of the couch so that it was almost touching Damon’s shoulders, startling him. It felt intimate especially with how close they already were, making Damon rigidly aware of Liam’s presence. He cleared his throat to distract himself._

_“Can I have one of your cigarettes?” he asked._

_“Sorry, this was my last one,” Liam answered as he breathed out smoke._

_“It’s alright,” Damon replied, shrugging. “Just been itching for one.”_

_Liam looked at him for a moment while he smirked deviously, his eyes glimmering strangely. He took a long drag from his cigarette, but didn’t exhale, and leaned forward. He hooked a finger into Damon’s mouth, gently coaxing his jaw open. Damon’s heart hammered against his ribs as Liam brought his lips up to his until they were almost touching and then blew out the smoke and into his mouth. Damon inhaled, feeling it gently burn the back of his throat, and as he exhaled he carefully watched as Liam sat back into the cushions. It wasn’t as technically satisfying as a normal drag, but he could feel the electricity of the near kiss energizing every fiber of his body until he was almost dizzy._

_“That better?” Liam asked nonchalantly, as if he had simply let Damon take a drag from his cigarette._

_“I, uh, yeah,” Damon stuttered, completely stunned._

_“Want another one?”_

_Damon bit his lip briefly, wondering if he was misreading Liam’s intentions or not. “Yeah.”_

_Liam brought his cigarette to his lips and inhaled, keeping the smoke inside. He came forward again and Damon opened his mouth, but this time Liam placed his lips on Damon’s as he breathed the smoke out. He pulled away as Damon exhaled, cocking his head and studying his face._

_“You’re sexy, you know?” Liam said._

_“Yeah?” Damon said, hardly believing what he was hearing. Liam smirked and nodded. Damon eased his head back. “Kiss me then.”_

_Liam didn’t need to be asked twice. He flicked the cigarette onto a nearby ashtray and grabbed Damon’s jaw, finally pressing their lips together. At first it was surprisingly slow and soft, almost gentle. Liam tasted a little salty from the lingering sweat from the gig, which Damon knew should put him off but it sent shivers down his spine. Liam quickly built up the pace, opening their mouths and moving a hand to grip at the hair at the back of Damon’s head. Damon at first was a little slow to keep up thanks to the shock of finding himself in such a situation with Liam of all people, but he quickly found his footing and groaned into the kiss. Liam took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth. He began to put his weight on Damon, guiding him to lie down on the couch._

_The position was slightly awkward because of the small size of the couch, but Liam made up for it by sliding himself between Damon’s legs and grinding against him. Damon broke the kiss to try and catch his breath, but Liam bore down and licked along his jawline and then bit down under his ear and sucked, making Damon hiss._

_“Fuck,” Damon gritted out. “Kiss me again.”_

_But just as their lips came together the door opened without warning and someone entered the room._

_“Liam, what the fuck are you up to, we have to-” he heard Noel’s voice say and then suddenly halt. Damon gasped and struggled beneath Liam as he sat up. Damon whipped his head around to face Noel as he tried to disentangle himself from Liam. He was staring at them with wide eyes and furrowed brows._

_“What the fuck Liam,” he finally snapped. “Sleeping with the enemy, are you?”_

_“We were just snogging,” Liam answered, shrugging._

_“Just snogging?” Noel scoffed._

_“Yeah, heard of it before, mate?”_

_Noel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, I don’t fucking care, but we’re all leaving for the party, so you need to get yourself together.”_

_“Nah, man, I’m going to leave with Damon,” Liam replied coolly. Damon’s brows shot up in surprise and turned to Liam, but his eyes were strictly focused on Noel._

_Noel gave a short dark laugh. “Like fuck you are. There’s going to be concert promoters there and we need to-”_

_“You don’t let me say shit to them anyways and if I do I get a dressing down for it. I’m not fucking going.”_

_Noel clenched his jaw. “If you want to be a cunt about it, fine, you’re right, I don’t fucking need you,” he spat. Then he turned to Damon, pointing at him. “Don’t have him trick you into letting him not use a condom. You have no clue all the places this twat has been, believe you me.”_

_Before Damon could even react, Noel turned and slammed the door behind him. He looked to Liam, who was staring at the door as if Noel was still there, his hands clenching and unclenching and his jaw tightly pressing together_

_“Fucking dickhead,” he muttered, his face a heated scowl. Damon frowned and sighed._

_“You two have a very strange relationship, you realize?”_

_“I fucking hate him,” Liam gritted out. He looked angry, but there was also a slight softness and twitch to his frown that Damon realized was hurt. Damon bit the inside of his lip, a little surprised by the toxicity between Noel and Liam, though it made sense the more he thought about it. But it also didn’t seem possible that they could genuinely hate each other, especially considering how protective they were._

_“No you don’t,” Damon stated firmly, shaking his head._

_“I do.”_

_As he continued to fume his eyes suddenly began to shine again, the blue illuminating the dimly lit room. Damon gasped and flinched, but Liam blinked and the lights were gone._

_“What’s wrong?” Liam asked with alarm, turning his head around to stare at Damon._

_“Your eyes,” Damon panted. “They lit up again.”_

_Liam knitted his eyebrows together. “They what?”_

_“They, uh…” Damon said, trailing off. He shook his head, not knowing how to explain without sounding crazy, though he wasn’t sure anymore that he wasn’t. “Nothing, I think I just need some sleep.”_

_Liam looked at him with an open mouth for a moment, his confusion evident. “Suppose you don’t fancy a nightcap then?” he asked after a moment._

_Damon smiled, still shaking but willing himself to write it off as another illusion. “No, actually that sounds lovely.”_

_Liam nodded, breaking into a grin. “You got a place?”_

_“Yeah, my flat isn’t far from here.”_

_Liam was already bounding up and grabbing an anorak stuffed in the corner, the fight apparently a distant memory already. Damon smiled at his enthusiasm and the quick upswing of his mood, but then another thought occurred to him and he felt a wave of anxiety._

_“Liam, there’s something I should tell you.”_

_He turned to Damon as he pulled the jacket over his head. “What?”_

_Damon bit his lip briefly, hesitating. “I’m in a relationship.”_

_“Oh,” Liam said, a little taken aback. He took a moment to pull the zipper all the way up to his neck and exhaled. “With Graham?”_

_Damon balked and couldn’t help laughing in surprise. “No. Where’d you get that idea?”_

_Liam shrugged, still not looking at Damon and his cheeks reddening a little. “Just the way you talk about him and all that.”_

_Damon shook his head. “We’re good mates is all.”_

_“And you’ve never…?”_

_“No, never.”_

_“Who are you in a relationship with then?”_

_Damon cracked his knuckles nervously, feeling a little guilty. “Her name’s Justine.”_

_“Right, her, I forgot,” Liam said, smiling although his face was still blushing a little. “Do you live with her?”_

_“No.”_

_“Then it doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t you.”_

_Damon shrugged and sighed. “I’ve never been a perfect boyfriend anyways and she knows that well.”_

_Liam snickered. “Sorted.”_

_-_

_Damon had planned on there being a preamble, perhaps a few drinks and some time to get to know each other a little better before jumping in bed, but Liam clearly had other ideas. As soon as the front door was shut behind them Liam had him backed up against it, crushing his mouth against his and swallowing Damon’s initial surprised gasps that gave way to drawn out groans. Damon began to grab at the back of Liam’s jacket as he grinded their hips together, but Liam quickly grabbed his wrist and pinned it down by his head. Damon exhaled sharply in surprise and broke the kiss, knocking his head against the door. Liam cocked his head and smiled, his eyes wide and bright._

_“Want to show me what your bedroom looks like?”_

_Damon smiled back at him, feeling a little light headed but happy._

_“Sure.”_

_Liam had him on the bed as soon as they were in the room, briefly taking the time to pull off his jacket and carelessly throw it on the floor before pinning Damon to the mattress and biting down on his neck. Damon groaned harshly, temporarily losing all sense of reality, but then shifted to loosen himself from Liam’s grasp and pushed up on his hips._

_“Come on, flip over.”_

_Liam rolled onto his back as Damon quickly climbed on top of him, bearing down on his hips. For a moment all he could do was look down at Liam, watching his eyes widen and his chest heave. He could hardly believe that someone like Liam could be in his bed, someone so insufferably arrogant and rough, but it blended so well into his sex appeal that it was impossible not to be helplessly drawn in to it. Damon could feel his blood thumping in his ear and his heart beating in the back of his throat._

_Liam seemed to be aware of Damon’s thoughts as he smirked cockily and brought his hand up to trace his bottom lip, but it brought Damon back into himself and he opened his mouth and bit down hard on Liam’s finger. Liam hissed through his teeth before Damon leaned down and kissed him hard, suddenly feeling a little bit frenzied. Liam easily got the idea and quickly undid the button and zipper on Damon’s jeans, pushing his hand in and gripping him tightly. Damon broke the kiss to gasp and swear while Liam built up a quick pace. After a little while as Damon continued to moan and grind, he felt Liam’s free hand begin to grip the backside of his jeans. Damon leaned back a little to look into Liam’s eyes._

_“You want to fuck?” Liam asked, grinning widely._

_“Christ,” Damon breathed, briefly pausing to get ahold of himself and control his panting, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”_

_Damon took a moment to steady himself and kiss him languidly before pushing up and off of him, reaching to his nightstand to get a condom and lube. He handed them to Liam and took off his jumper, trying to stop himself from getting lightheaded as he felt the anticipation build up in his gut. Liam leaned forward and kissed Damon after he pulled off the rest of his clothing and eased him to lie on his back. As he watched Liam open the cap to the lube Damon expected to feel the jitters that usually came when he slept with someone for the first time, but it felt easy with Liam, none of the awkward guesswork, self-consciousness, and stage fright. Still, he couldn’t help scrunching up his face when he felt him slip in his fingers._

_“Am I hurting you?” Liam asked, watching Damon squeeze his eyes closed._

_“No,” Damon gritted out. “Just been awhile. Forgot what it felt like.”_

_“We’ll go slowly, then,” Liam responded, nodding as Damon opened his eyes._

_Damon raised his eyebrows, surprised that Liam was even capable of such a thoughtful reply, especially after the breakneck pace he had gone with throughout the night. “Alright.”_

_Liam beckoned and moved his fingers with patience at first and then with more roughness the more that Damon began to moan and writhe. The burn was quick to die away and be replaced with pleasure that radiated up and down his body, definitely helped by Liam bending over him to bite down on his ear and then trace his lips with his tongue._

_“You ready?” Liam asked finally. Damon bit his lip and nodded before Liam gave him one last bruising kiss and then pulled away. Damon raised himself to his elbows and watched as Liam quickly undressed and threw his clothes onto the floor. When he finally pulled out the condom and rolled it onto himself, Damon frowned and remembered what Noel had said back in the dressing room, wondering what stories could be behind it. But those thoughts were quickly forgotten when Liam moved to hover over him and began to slowly push in, swearing under his breath._

_“You alright?” Liam breathed once he was all the way inside._

_“Yeah,” Damon replied as he wrapped his legs around Liam. “Just fucking go.”_

_Liam laughed and shifted down to kiss Damon as he began to find a rhythm. Liam moved with insistence and force, but Damon could tell that he still was holding back, clearly understanding and respecting where the boundaries lay, to Damon’s surprise. As the pleasured began to build rapidly, he dug his nails into Liam’s back and bit down on his lip. Liam groaned and began to quicken his thrusts, slamming himself into Damon. He forced himself in as far as he could go and then grinded himself against Damon’s hips, breathing harshly into his open mouth. Damon squeezed his eyes shut and groaned lowly in his throat._

_“Too rough?” Liam asked, though he did little to slow down. Damon opened his eyes and smiled, reaching up to fist the hair at the back of Liam’s head and pulling until he had to wrench his neck backward._

_“Ah, fuck,” Liam breathed as the last of his defenses were finally broken down and he began to thrust so hard that the bed started to shake._

_“Christ, fucking come on,” Damon groaned, letting go of Liam’s hair but continuing to claw at his back until he wasn’t sure he wasn’t drawing blood. Liam understood his meaning and reached a hand down to stroke him. Damon bit down harshly on Liam’s neck as he felt his entire body beginning to tense, making sure to leave a mark that Noel would have to grimace at the next day. Damon finally came not long after when Liam licked his way into his mouth. Liam followed him almost at the same moment, groaning into his mouth._

_Liam pulled out and rolled over onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. Damon looked over at him and smiled._

_“I didn’t think you’d be so gentle.”_

_Liam snorted. “What kind of sex have you been having if you call that gentle?”_

_“Okay, maybe not gentle. Tender, maybe?”_

_“You sound like a bird, mate.”_

_“Oh, fuck off,” Damon laughed._

_“Already have, man.”_

_Damon rolled his eyes and then bit his lip. “It was good though, really good.”_

_Liam moved his arm and turned to look Damon in the eyes. “Yeah?”_

_Damon smiled at him before leaning forward to kiss him. It was slow and gentle, but Liam still managed to slip his tongue in._

_“If you want to go again, you have to give me a few more minutes,” Liam said after pulling away. Damon shook his head._

_“I’m spent.”_

_“Yeah, me as well,” Liam said, standing and throwing the condom in a bin in the corner. “I should be off then.”_

_“Can’t you stay?” Damon asked sitting up. Liam shook his head._

_“If I’m not at the hotel in the morning our kid’s head will explode,” Liam explained, as he searched through his clothes and pulled on his boxers._

_“Hotel? Do you not have a flat here?”_

_“Nah, I live in Manchester with me Mam.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because I’m fucking skint and I don’t like London.”_

_Damon arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”_

_Liam shrugged. “Something in the air here, man. Everyone is a cunt.”_

_“But what about the money? Where does that go?”_

_Liam snorted and sneered. “To fucking Noel.”_

_“That doesn’t seem fair.”_

_“Cause it’s not,” Liam said. “Where’s the bathroom?”_

_“In the hall to your left,” Damon answered and watched as Liam left to wash up. Damon felt a bit of a slag, getting shagged by someone he hardly knew and then abandoned immediately afterwards, but he also couldn’t say that he regretted it._

_He sighed and stood to pull on a pair of trackies and a t-shirt when Liam returned from the bathroom. He watched him get dressed and felt a twinge of disappointment, wishing he didn’t have to spend the night alone. He also had to admit there was a small part of him that liked the idea of waking up to Liam, making him eggs and toast, and listening to him cuss him out after “accidently” putting salt instead of sugar into his tea, but that was too sentimental, especially for someone he had just met and very nearly threw a fist at a few days before. He banished the thought from his brain._

_Still as he walked Liam to the door he couldn’t help but wish that he at least lived close by, just in the hope that they may run into each other again, especially since there was no guarantee that Oasis’s success would last much longer._

_“Would you want my phone number?” Damon asked before he could stop himself just as Liam was about to reach for the door. “For when you’re in London again?”_

_Liam’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”_

_Damon clenched his jaw and shrugged. “Well, yes.”_

_Liam broke into a wide grin. “For what, a chat?”_

_Damon smiled. “That among other things.”_

_Liam nodded. “Alright then, sure.”_

_“Alright, er, just give me a moment,” Damon muttered before quickly scrambling to find a notebook and tearing out a page to scrawl his number on. He handed it to Liam, who folded it and shoved it into his pocket._

_“Cheers, mate.”_

_“Yes, well,” Damon stuttered, scratching the back of his head. “It’s been good getting to know you, Liam.”_

_Liam smirked and grabbed the front of Damon’s shirt, pulling him into a kiss._

_“I’ll be seeing you, then,” Liam said before he finally opened the door and walked out and into the dark. Damon closed the door behind him and then licked his lips that were still wet from their kiss, sighing. But as he leaned against the wall he glanced at the floor and noticed a pair of trainers he didn’t recognize. As he bent down to pick them up he figured that they must belong to Liam. He furrowed his brow, not understanding how someone could manage to leave their shoes behind, but he shrugged. It was Liam after all._

_He opened his door to try to call after him, but he didn’t find him. Damon frowned. He had left just a moment before. It wasn’t possible that he could have disappeared so quickly. He walked down the steps and looked around, but he wasn’t anywhere he could see. He began to walk down the street, just to try to catch up to him, when he heard Liam singing somewhere in the distance._

_“Liam?” Damon called, but he didn’t answer and continued to sing. Damon couldn’t make out the words and heard a few distorted guitar chords, but it sounded far away and vague. He stood still trying to get his bearings when he noticed a figure stumble past him. He almost tripped over his feet as he went around the corner, swearing to himself. Damon realized then that it was Liam, even though for some reason he was wearing different clothes and his hair looked shorter._

_“Liam!” Damon called again as he followed him, but he still didn’t answer. Damon went around the corner and watched Liam fumble and laugh to himself as he walked down the pavement. Damon realized that he was drunk even though he hadn’t seen him drink anything the entire time that he was at his flat. “Liam, are you alright?”_

_Damon tried to pick up his pace until he looked up and saw that he was on a street he didn’t recognize despite the fact that he was still on the same block as his flat. It was also suddenly bitterly cold even though it had been warm just a moment before. For a moment Damon had to pause, feeling disoriented and dizzy. He shook his head and continued to follow Liam and call after him._

_They walked past a dark alley and Liam halted suddenly, swaying in place a bit and startling Damon. He turned and stepped into it._

_“What the fuck are you doing now?” Damon groaned as he watched Liam walk to the end of the alley. He turned towards the wall, fumbling with his belt and swearing under his breath. Damon rolled his eyes. “For Christ’s sake, don’t piss here, just come back to my flat.”_

_But just as Damon was about to follow him, he heard a noise somewhere by where Liam was standing. Liam turned, furrowing his brows. There was someone else with him in the alley, but it was too dark for Damon to see who._

_“The fuck you want, wanker,” Liam slurred. “Piss off.”_

_But the figure didn’t respond. Instead he opened his eyes and they glowed like bright white lights. Liam stared at them with raised eyebrows, mesmerized. Damon gasped and felt his heart begin to beat wildly as he realized what scene was unfolding in front of him._

_“No, Liam, don’t!” he shouted as he began to run towards him. But before he could take two steps the shadows surged forward and closed around him like walls. The air suddenly became thick and humid while the temperature increased until it was blistering hot. Damon tried to thrash, but he couldn’t move at all as the darkness swallowed him and set him on fire._

Damon gasped and clawed at the air when he finally awoke a moment later, as if he could somehow fight the dream off from choking him any further.

“Damon, are you alright?” he heard Liam ask with alarm. Damon raised himself to his elbows. Sure enough Liam was sat on top of the desk across from the bed, an acoustic guitar in his lap. He was staring at Damon with wide eyes and a concerned frown, his mouth open slightly.

“Yeah,” Damon panted as he collapsed back onto the pillows, hardly believing Plastic Beach wasn’t a dream too. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to push the panic away. “I’m fine.”

“Was it a nightmare?”

“Yeah,” Damon answered lowly, sighing.

Liam exhaled slowly and put the guitar down on the desk as he stood. He walked over and sat on the bed by Damon as he opened his eyes again. “I get those too.”

Damon glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Liam snorted. “I had to, you’ve been asleep for fifteen hours. I’ve been sat here for ages making sure that you’re not dead.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“And I’m well glad for it,” Liam replied, shrugging. “You want some scran? Noel can make you whatever you might want.”

Damon groaned and turned over to lie on his stomach, burying his face into the pillows. “Will you stop mothering me?”

He could almost hear Liam sneering. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fucking keel over, you know.”

Damon sighed and turned his head to meet Liam’s eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Liam nodded and stood. “Right, then. Now that you’re awake I should be off.”

“Off?” Damon asked as he sat up. “Off where?”

“I have to get Noel.”

Damon grimaced and peered at him “You mean the robot?”

Liam shook his head. “No, the real Noel.”

Damon balked. “You can’t be serious.”

“I have to,” Liam answered, frowning and starting to fidget. “The Boogieman might try to kidnap him too.”

“You can’t be certain of that. I’m sure he’s fine where he is.”

“He’s my brother, Damon,” Liam responded forcefully. “I need him to be here where he’s going to be safe.”

Damon scowled. “What about me? You’re just going to leave me to fend for myself?”

Liam shook his head. “I’m going to have the cyborg here with you.”

“No, Liam, that’s far too dangerous,” Damon replied in disbelief.

“I can’t just let you be here alone.”

“Then don’t go.”

Liam hardened his jaw. “I don’t have a choice.”

Damon exhaled and glared at him. “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

Liam scowled and shook his head. “No, not happening.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Cause I can’t just-”

“I’m not going to sit on this fucking island, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for you to come back,” Damon snapped. “If you’re going to go, I’m coming too.”

Liam bit his nails and sighed. “Alright, fine, but only because the cyborg is better than me at flying the seaplane.”

Damon rolled his eyes and nodded. “Where is Noel anyways?”

“L.A.”

“Los Angeles?”

“Yeah.”

Damon sighed and collapsed back into the pillows, trying to keep his head from spinning. “At least it will be sunny there.”

Liam smirked before turning to leave the room. “Sorted, now get packing,” he called over his shoulder. “We got a long ways to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lazy sunday thing really happened when noel and liam first met graham, according to paolo hewitt anyways.
> 
> don't be an ass (like noel), wear a mask!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear i had this outlined and well underway before the music video for valley of the pagans came out.
> 
> also im sorry if the first part is confusing-it will make more sense in future chapters.

Damon gritted his teeth as the car’s gears grinded and they lurched forward and then halted. He leaned his head out of the window, trying to breathe in some fresh air. They had been stuck in traffic in Malibu for half an hour and the infuriatingly repetitive shuffles forward and abrupt stops were starting to make his stomach uneasy. The smell of petrol and Liam’s cigarettes didn’t help either.

“Feeling carsick?” Liam asked from the backseat. Damon turned to glare at him. He was sprawled across the seat, his feet up on the black leather as he used the burning end of his spent cigarette to light another.

“No,” Damon grumbled. “I just want to get out of this fucking car. We’ve been in here all day.”

“It’s only been two hours.”

“That’s far too long for a drive.” Damon bounced his knee nervously and gnawed on his lip. “Did we really have to use James Bond’s car? Not exactly inconspicuous, is it?”

“It's not James Bond’s car, it’s James Paul McCartney’s fucking car,” Liam corrected aggressively, pointing at him. “Bond’s were silver and a DB5, not a DB6.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Damon responded irritably. “You may as well have painted a Union Jack on the roof and RAF roundels on the doors.”

“Christ, calm down. Americans don’t know about British cars.”

“What about demons then?”

“I think Italian cars are more their scene.”

Damon sighed in exasperation. “You could have at least chosen a model with left hand drive”

“Wouldn’t be a proper Aston then, would it?” Liam answered, shrugging.

Damon glared at him, but didn’t respond, not in the mood to start something. He turned to lean his head again out of the window as the car jolted and his stomach flipped. The flight in the seaplane had been bad enough, what with the turbulence, the fear that the cyborg would malfunction and hurtle the plane into the ocean, and the anxiety about the situation he had gotten himself into. But they managed to land safely enough in a private port, suspiciously named Octopus’s Garden Harbor, where there was a vintage dark green Aston Martin waiting for them. The cyborg had been driving them south when they eventually hit the inevitable LA traffic, much to Damon’s unease.

Damon pulled his head back into the car and switched off the radio as an Aerosmith song began to play. He placed his elbow on the car door’s arm rest and leaned his chin on his palm, glaring at the seemingly infinite lines of traffic stretched out in front of him. “I hate Americans,” he griped. “All they ever do is sit in cars.”

“Still upset you’ve not made it here then?” Liam said before sucking on his cigarette.

Damon scowled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Cause you never fucking shut up about it, Americans and all.”

“Not like you were doing so well here before _Morning Glory_ anyway,” Damon grumbled.

“Sounds like somebody’s jealous,” Liam snickered. “Maybe if you stopped dancing around whinging about the Queen’s knickers Americans would like your tunes better.”

Damon was about to release a stream of swears in response, but before he could open his mouth a BMW suddenly tried to force its way into their lane. The cyborg growled, laid down on the horn, and violently jerked the car forward, forcing the BMW to retreat and Liam to tumble off of his seat and into the footwell.

“Watch it, cunt,” Liam shouted at the cyborg, his cigarette impressively still dangling from his mouth as he scrambled to get back onto the seat.

“Shut the fuck up,” the cyborg spat back in a tinny voice resembling Noel’s. Damon raised his eyebrows as he turned to watch Liam scowl.

“He’s got Noel’s DNA in him after all,” Damon said, smirking.

“I’m going to enjoy taking that twat apart once this is over,” Liam muttered, turning his attention back to chain smoking.

Damon leaned his head back and looked over the cyborg’s shoulder, staring at the long line of waves as they crashed along the large yellow beaches parallel to the road. Despite the California sunshine, it was surprisingly frigid, mostly due to the cold winds blowing in from the sea, but Damon felt too queasy to close his window. He wished he had asked for a thicker jumper as he tucked his hands into the sleeves and pulled his arms tighter around himself.

The jumper was technically Liam’s, since his only set of clothes had been essentially ruined by his arrival at Plastic Beach. Luckily he and Liam were more or less the same size, though it felt strange to wear his clothes. They smelled like him, cigarettes and a musk similar to whiskey, and it triggered memories that seemed to belong to a different world, not only one in which he wasn’t in danger of being dragged to Hell, but also one where he and Liam weren’t enemies.

“Why is Noel in LA anyways?” Damon asked to distract himself.

“’Cause it’s one of the closest points to Plastic Beach and there are lots of portals to Hell, you know ‘cause of all the faults, in case he needs to go down there to speak to solicitors and that.”

“Solicitors?” Damon echoed. “They have solicitors for this type of thing?”

“Yeah, Jimmy Page knows a few and sent them along to us. They’re making a shit go of it though. Turns out Hell ain’t very well organized.”

“What have they been doing down there?”

“They’ve been trying to get the contract I signed to see if there’s a way out of it.”

“Do you think they’ll be able to find one?”

There was silence from the backseat for a few anxious moments. Damon bit the inside of his lip as he struggled to find words to backpedal and give Liam some reassurance, but then he heard a quiet exhale.

“I don’t know. I can’t remember what any of it said.”

Damon turned around in his seat to look at him once more. He was gnawing on his nails and his brows were furrowed, but his sunspecs obscured the full expression of his eyes. Damon reached a hand over and pulled his hand away from his mouth.

“You have to stop doing that, it’s a bad habit.”

“Fuck off,” Liam muttered, scowling. Damon paused, watching Liam’s mouth twitch as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray pocket embedded in the armrest.

“I’m sure they’ll find a way to fix all of this. I don’t think Noel will let anything happen to you anyways.”

Liam gave a short, dark laugh. “He’s only in on this to keep me in the band so he can go on buying swimming pools.”

Damon frowned. “You know that’s not true.”

“Yeah, it’s what he said.”

“If he did I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

Liam sucked on his teeth. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t, but I know he loves you.”

“Right, peace and love and that,” Liam chuckled sarcastically as he sunk farther into the seat, crossing his arms. He paused for a few moments, biting his lip. “Do you remember when we were in LA together?”

Damon fell silent. He had wondered if this subject would be brought up. The memory of it had seemed to dangle between them ever since they had left the plane, though Damon figured that it was probably all in his head since Liam appeared to be oblivious to it, but clearly he had been thinking of it too.

“Of course I remember, but it feels like centuries ago,” Damon finally replied. “I can’t believe it’s only been two years.”

“Do you regret it ever?”

Damon was taken aback again, surprised that Liam would even think to ask that sort of question. He also had never thought of it that way, but he considered what the memory meant to him for a moment as he studied Liam. The back of the car was cramped, but Liam still managed to look small while he folded himself tighter into the seat and again unconsciously began to bite his nails. The image reminded Damon of how much he had tried to help him back then. He may have been naïve, but he knew he had made Liam feel safer, and that definitely still meant something. Damon sighed.

“No, I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t?” Liam echoed, cocking his head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m glad I was there for you,” Damon replied slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. Liam fell silent and clenched his jaw, but he nodded and looked out of the window pensively.

“Do you regret it?” Damon asked.

“Sometimes,” Liam answered with a causal shrug. Damon felt his heart sink a little.

“Why?”

“I should’ve just left it. It turned out well enough in the end, didn’t it?”

Damon frowned. “There’s no shame in needing help now and again, you know.”

Liam sneered, but Damon could see him fidget anxiously. Damon sighed and sat back in his seat, wishing as the beach traffic began to fall away that he could say as easily as Liam that he did regret what had happened.

-

Damon was relieved when they finally made it to Santa Monica, but unfortunately there still remained the task of finding a place to park in a city overrun with cars. After a lot of grumbling from both Liam and Damon, they managed to find a spot in an overpriced carpark several blocks away from Noel’s hotel.

Despite the inconvenience, Liam seemed to relax a little as they made their way towards the hotel and went down the promenade overlooking the Santa Monica Pier. Damon noted his tendency to stare at all the LA picture perfect girls, grinning mischievously as they walked by. He rolled his eyes and fumed that Liam would take the effort to flirt even while they were under threat of being tracked down by the Boogieman.

As they finally approached the hotel, Damon noticed Noel’s lack of discretion in his choice of location. The building was right on the avenue overlooking the ocean and the exterior was flashy and obviously high end. But he also wasn’t surprised that Noel would settle for anything short of luxury.

When they walked into the lobby they were immediately greeted by a pretty brunette receptionist. Liam took off his sunspecs and grinned as he approached her, the cyborg walking stiffly beside him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gallagher,” she said pleasantly to the cyborg and then gestured towards Liam. “Is this your brother?”

The cyborg didn’t say anything and instead stared at her with a stony expression. “Ignore him, he’s throwing a bit of a moody,” Liam said before the silence went on too long.

The receptionist slid her eyes between them, but easily shook off the eeriness of the cyborg. It was LA after all; she was probably well accustomed to strange celebrities. Liam continued to smile charmingly.

“Listen, our Noel here lost his key. Could we get another one?”

“Of course, just give me a sec,” she said before turning away from her desk to search for a replacement.

“Why do you need a key?” Damon asked quietly so she wouldn’t hear. “Is Noel not here?”

“He’s here,” Liam responded. “Don’t know if he’ll let me in the room though so I need a key.”

“Why wouldn’t he let you in?”

“He’s not going to be too happy when he finds out I’m here,” Liam answered, shrugging. “If I knocked he would just carry on screaming at me through the door. A key makes it easier to get in.”

A sudden realization struck Damon as he knitted his eyebrows together. “Does Noel not know we’re coming?”

“Not exactly, no.”

The receptionist returned with the key and handed it to Liam.

“Thanks, love,” Liam said, smiling. She nodded, blushing, and Damon felt his gut twist a little. Liam quickly turned and made his way to the lifts and Damon rushed to fall in step with him, the cyborg following closely behind.

“Do you even know if he wants to come to Plastic Beach?”

“Nah, he thinks he's better of here,” Liam replied flatly as he pressed the button for the lift. “But he’ll not have a choice if I have anything to say ‘bout it.”

Damon pressed his lips into a line. “You’re not planning on forcing him to come with us, are you?”

“Forcing?” Liam repeated coolly as they stepped into the lift. “No, I’d say it will be more of an invite with a bit of a punch-up thrown in.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” Damon groaned, the nerves beginning to make his stomach hurt. Liam shrugged as they reached the right floor and left the lift.

“Right, well, we’ll go in and see what he has to say.”

“And if he doesn’t want to go?”

“We’ll sort it out,” Liam mused as he looked at the room number tag attached to the key and tried to figure which direction to go in. Liam took a step down the hall, but Damon froze as another thought occurred to him.

“Does Noel have any idea that I’m with you?” Damon asked as Liam turned to him.

“’Course not.”

“Fucking hell,” Damon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I should have stayed in the car.”

“Come on, you'll be fine while I’m ‘round,” Liam said, suddenly grabbing Damon’s hand and leading him down the hall until he abruptly halted in front of a door. “This is it I think.”

Damon nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Liam put the key in the lock, reality suddenly feeling distant as the door opened. The three of them stepped into the suite to find the living area and kitchenette empty.

“Hello?” Liam called while Damon hovered anxiously behind him and the cyborg settled in on the couch indifferently. After a few moments they heard Noel’s voice coming from the room over. Liam strode to the door and flung it open, not hesitating to enter the bedroom. Damon followed sheepishly behind him and found Noel outside pacing the balcony and talking into a flip phone. Liam walked up to the opened sliding glass doors and poked his head outside.

“Housekeeping!” Liam shouted loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Noel’s head shot up in surprise and met Liam’s eyes. He stared at him for a moment, clearly at a loss for words as his mouth hung open dumbly, but his expression swiftly hardened into a vicious sneer. He shut the phone and violently threw it at Liam’s head, who just barely managed to dodge it.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” he shouted at Liam, meeting him at the door and roughly shoving his chest.

“Just thought I’d pop by for a visit,” Liam responded with a smirk. Noel clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring.

“I fucking told you to stay put! How many fucking times do I have to-” Noel suddenly broke off as his eyes instinctively shifted away from Liam’s and caught Damon’s. Damon stiffened and he began to panic, smiling awkwardly out of reflex. Noel simply stared at him for a moment and then turned back to Liam. “You fucking didn’t.”

“I had to.”

“No, don’t fucking give me that shit, you fucking didn’t have to,” Noel spat.

“I couldn’t have him down there.”

“Yes, you could’ve.”

“No, I fucking couldn’t‘ve.”

“You could’ve done what you were fucking told and waited,” Noel barked. “I said that we would get him after we sorted you out first.”

“It don’t matter anyway, does it? I got him back so it’s done, end of.”

Noel exhaled sharply in exasperation. “Do you have any idea how fucking big of a miracle it is that you survived all that?”

“It was alright,” Liam smirked deviously. “I had my Noel with me.”

“The fuck you on about?” Noel sneered.

“Oi, Noel!” Liam shouted, triggering a sense of deja-vu in Damon and making him wince. The cyborg entered the room the next moment, his face blank as usual. Noel again fell silent in shock, but then he ran his hand through his hair and sighed, clearly exhausted by Liam’s antics.

“Jesus wept,” he groaned. “I didn’t mean for you to use my DNA.”

“Whose then?”

“I don’t fucking know, but not fucking mine.”

“With that big head of yours I thought you’d’ve liked it.”

“Why would I like any of that?” Noel complained, gesturing at the cyborg. “It don’t even look like me.”

“Yeah, maybe if you were about a foot taller.”

Noel tightened his jaw and jabbed a finger into Liam’s chest. “One more word out of you and I’ll throw you off that balcony.”

“Fucking try it, mate.”

Damon watched them bicker back and forth for another minute and became increasingly impatient as their voices grew louder. Eventually it became clear that things were about to escalate as Noel and Liam moved forward to shout in each other’s faces. Damon sighed with frustration and finally stepped between them, pushing them both backwards.

“Will you two shut up and calm down?”

Noel roughly shoved Damon’s shoulder. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Liam growled, trying to step closer.

“Take it easy, the both of you,” Damon responded, maintaining his stance between them. “We don’t have time for this.”

Liam looked from Noel to Damon, still sneering, but he eased back.

“Damon’s right,” Liam agreed. “We have to go.”

“Go where?” Noel retorted gruffly.

“Back to Plastic Beach and you’re coming with us, this time I mean it.”

“Fuck, is that what all this is about?” Noel laughed darkly in disbelief. “I should have fucking guessed.”

“Don’t be a twat,” Liam warned. “You can’t stay here.”

“I’m not about to start this with you again,” Noel snapped. “I’m not leaving, so you can fuck right off.”

Liam balled his fists, but Damon gave him a stern look. Liam scowled, but relaxed again.

“Whatever, I need a piss,” he said through gritted teeth and trudged out of the room, pushing the cyborg aside roughly and slamming the door behind him. Damon clenched his jaw and uneasily turned to Noel, meeting his heated glare.

“Were you really going to leave me in Hell?” Damon ventured, but Noel ignored him as he stepped forward to sneer in his face.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Damon furrowed his brows. “What are you on about?”

“What makes you fucking think you got the right to be here with Liam?”

“Do you think I want to be here?” Damon balked. “Liam’s the one who brought me into this.”

“No fucking shit,” Noel sneered. “But why in the fuck are you following him ‘round? You should be back in London, not here.”

“Of course I shouldn’t be here,” Damon replied angrily. “But I can’t very well go back now, can I?”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m being hunted by a fucking demon, for Christ’s sake.”

“Who, the Boogieman?”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Yes, the Boogieman, who the bloody hell else?”

“Right, do you think he gives a fuck?” Noel chuckled. “He’s after Liam, not you.”

“Why did he kidnap me then?”

“’Cause he’s a moron. He wants fuck all to do with you.”

Damon set his jaw, trying to steel his expression. “Liam told me it wasn’t safe to go back.”

“Yeah, but Liam’s a moron as well and so are you if you don’t turn ‘round right now and fuck off back to England.”

Damon opened his mouth, trying to think of a reply, but came up with nothing as he considered Noel’s advice. The thought of the safety and familiarity of London made his chest ache with homesickness, but as he considered the actual reality of leaving Liam behind all he could think about was the image of him curled up alone in the backseat of the Aston.

“I…I can’t,” Damon stammered, not quite believing what he was admitting to.

“Why the fuck not?” Noel snarled, his eyes narrowing in anger.

“I’m too invested in all of this now, I can’t just walk away.”

“Fucking hell,” Noel breathed, frowning deeply. “You and Liam are shagging again after all then, ain’t you?”

Damon inhaled sharply in surprise, feeling himself blush. “No, of course not.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“Jesus Noel, I’m not.”

Noel eyed him suspiciously. “Really?”

“We’re _not_ shagging,” Damon stated firmly.

“Thank Christ,” Noel said, sighing with relief. “God knows it would be a disaster for you to fuck ‘round with Liam’s head again, especially right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Damon asked, glaring at him.

“You know what.”

“No, I don’t.”

Noel scoffed irately. “Look, I don’t know what you fucking did exactly the last time you and him saw each other, but he faffed about and whinged like a kicked dog for weeks afterward. It was almost as bad as when you first fell out, or whatever the fuck happened. I’ll go mental if I have to deal with you fucking with him again.”

Damon gritted his teeth as his face flushed. “You think _I’m_ the one who was fucking around?” he growled, unable to help himself. “Do you really believe Liam’s so innocent?”

“No, of course not, but you knew better and you still fucked him over.”

Damon shook his head angrily. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, is that right?” Noel replied sarcastically. “You trying to say I don’t know owt after Liam broke into my house at 2 AM and went on to fucking cry like a little kid on my kitchen floor?”

Damon watched Noel furrow his brows, not believing what he was hearing. “He did that?”

“Yeah, it was fucking embarrassing.”

“That doesn’t sound like Liam,” Damon replied in disbelief.

“’Cause it’s not,” Noel spat. “Whatever you did, it really fucking tore him up.”

Damon stared at him, baffled and painfully guilty. Of course he knew that he had hurt Liam, but it had obviously gone much deeper than he had ever thought possible. He couldn’t even picture Liam having a proper cry, let alone on Noel’s floor. “I didn’t realize it was so bad for him,” Damon replied awkwardly, pursing his lips.

“’Course you didn’t,” Noel spat, glaring at Damon so intensely that he could almost feel it burn. “You don’t give a toss about him.”

Damon clenched his fist. “That’s not fair.”

“Save it, cunt, I can’t be bothered.”

“Yeah, how about _you_ then, if you’re so worried about him?” Damon shot back. “I’ve read the things you say about him in the papers.”

“Piss off, that’s got nothing to do with you.”

“What kind of brother are you if you call him an idiot and shit all over him all the time?” Damon continued, ignoring him. “Do you think that’s ever helped anything besides your little ego?”

Noel pushed Damon’s chest violently. “Fuck you.”

“You know, with a brother like you, it’s no wonder that Liam’s so fucked.”

Noel suddenly surged forward and with a surprising amount of strength shoved Damon until he was falling backwards. Fortunately enough, the bed behind him broke his fall, but it still knocked the wind out of him. Noel stepped forward to loom over Damon as he tried to steady himself, making him feel incredibly small despite Noel’s petite size.

“Don’t fucking talk like that about me and him,” Noel growled venomously.

“Fuck, Noel, calm down, I didn’t-”

“You sure as _fuck_ ain’t the one who scrapes Liam off the floor and worries about him ending up face down in a swimming pool, so don’t _ever_ fucking dare to tell me that I don’t care about Liam.”

“That wasn’t what I meant to imply,” Damon answered timidly. He had seen Noel angry before, but this felt different. He didn’t seem to care about physical intimidation or proving a point. Instead, it felt more like a wounded animal unconsciously gnashing its teeth, perpetuating trauma while deflecting blatant vulnerability. The uncharacteristic and painful intimacy made Damon’s stomach churn as Noel continued to stare at him menacingly, wishing that he had hit him instead.

“Noel, I’m sorry,” Damon continued in a small, apologetic voice, but Noel’s angry expression didn’t change.

“You know, you only want to shag Liam because of the contract,” Noel finally stated.

Damon knitted his eyebrows together. “What?”

“The contract, it’s what got us the record deal and the fans, and it dragged you in as well.”

“What are you talking about?”

Noel sighed with frustration. “Before I had even joined the band I had the songs written and I knew what I wanted the albums to sound like. I had it all planned out from the very beginning and I’ve not changed at all since then. Liam’s the one who’s different and _he’s_ the one who draws the fans in, _he’s_ the one everyone wants to fuck and idolize, and it’s all because he signed that fucking contract.”

Damon frowned and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Noel rolled his eyes and briefly paused to gnaw on his nails. “When Liam sold his soul it made him almost like a magnet, know what I mean?” he continued. “People get drawn into him first and then the music, and you’ve fallen for it like everyone else.”

“No, it can’t be that simple,” Damon faltered as he finally began to connect the dots.

“But it makes sense, don’t it?”

“Don’t you think it has to be the music itself? Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“Of course the music’s enough, or should’ve been,” Noel scoffed. “But the contract ain’t about that. It’s Liam that brings it together.”

“I don’t know. There has to be something more to it.”

“You tell me then. How’d you feel when you met Liam?”

Damon hesitated. There was no denying that he had felt drawn to Liam from the first day he had met him and it had only intensified the more time they spent together. As he analyzed the memories and failed to find an example that would definitively disprove Noel’s theory, he felt more and more panicked over the possibility that he had been tricked by a demonic curse into a relationship with Liam. But there was also a part of him that knew it wasn’t true, though he couldn’t exactly explain why.

“You just wanted to shag him, didn’t you?” Noel stated flatly after watching Damon squirm.

“No,” Damon answered defensively, but then hesitated again. “I mean, sort of, perhaps in the beginning…But it wasn’t always like that. That means something, doesn’t it?”

“How?”

Damon sighed, feeling vulnerable and uncomfortable under Noel’s stare, especially since he was the last person on Earth he wanted to dissect his relationship to Liam with. He looked away from him and sucked on his teeth for a moment. “If what you’re saying is true, Liam would’ve only ever been a shag then, right? But Liam was more than that, eventually anyway, so it couldn’t have been the contract.”

“Ain’t you two the lovebirds then,” Noel chuckled.

“Sod off,” Damon scowled. “You know what I mean.”

Noel shrugged. “But can you be sure it had nothing to do with him selling his soul?”

“No, I suppose not,” Damon admitted, creasing his eyebrows together. Damon raised his eyes again to look at Noel and study his expression. He didn’t look quite as angry anymore, but his shoulders were slumped and his eyes looked bruised and bloodshot. It finally clicked for Damon how exhausted and strained Noel must be, literally in the throes of a fight to save his brother’s soul.

“You know, when Liam figured that you had been kidnapped, he went absolutely mental,” Noel said after a few moments of silence. “He called me up, screaming about how we had to get you back. When I told him it weren’t going to happen he swore up and down that he’d never forgive me and then he clearly went and did it anyway. If I was Liam I’d’ve let you rot, but for some fucking reason he still cares about you enough to get himself almost killed, or worse.”

Damon gnawed on his lip and looked away from Noel again, suddenly realizing he hadn’t really taken the time to consider what Liam had gone through. “I still care about Liam a lot too, you know.”

“You sure you’ll feel the same once this is all over and the contract won’t be working on you anymore?”

“We don’t know if that will happen.”

“But if it does, where does that leave Liam then?”

Damon groaned. “Jesus Noel, I told you, we’re not shagging.”

“Right, sure,” Noel replied, rolling his eyes. “But if you really do care about Liam, keep your distance from him.”

“Noel, I-”

“Look, if I listen to Liam whinge about you one more time, I’ll fucking shoot myself,” Noel broke in. “For the sake of my and Liam’s sanity, stay the fuck away from him or I’ll break your bloody legs.”

Just as Noel finished his threat, the door mercifully flung open and Liam entered, chewing on the last few bites of a piece of toast and holding a half-empty beer glass. He paused as he looked from Damon to Noel, who was still hovering over Damon as he sat on the bed.

“What’s going on here?” he asked finally. Noel shot one last heated look at Damon and turned to Liam.

“Just having a chat.”

Liam raised his eyebrows, but shrugged. “Did you know that Paul Weller’s in the bog?”

“Yeah, that, right,” Noel answered nonchalantly. “He’s my cyborg.”

“Weller let you do that?” Liam asked.

“I didn’t exactly ask.”

“Nice one. But why’s he in there then?”

“Something went wrong with his programming and he won't fucking shut up. I put him in there ‘cause he keeps going on about Margaret Thatcher.”

“Sounds just like him,” Liam snickered. Noel scoffed.

“Do you even know who Margaret Thatcher is?”

“Yeah,” Liam answered defensively. “She were prime minister.”

“If you can name one thing she did while she were prime minister I’ll give you a tenner.”

“She…erm…”

“Christ, four GCSE’s my arse, the only reason you can spell your own name is ‘cause you have to sign all them autographs.”

“Shut the fuck up, twat.”

“You ever even read a book before?”

“’Course I have.”

“Yeah, what then?”

“John Lennon, _In His Own Write_.”

“That don’t count.”

“The fuck not?”

“That’s poetry. I’m talking about real books that have sentences and don’t got pictures.”

“They’re not pictures, they’re drawings.”

“There’s no fucking difference, you idiot.”

“Oi, Jesus Christ,” Damon finally spoke up. Noel and Liam simultaneously turned to him, their eyes identically wide and bright. “Can we please move along?”

“Right, we should leave now before it gets too dark,” Liam agreed.

“If you think I’m coming with youse, you can fucking forget it,” Noel replied.

“You have to come, dickhead,” Liam retorted. “It’s not safe here.”

“Yeah, and how am I going to get you out of this mess then if I’m stuck on a fucking island in the middle of nowhere?”

“Why do you need to be here to sort that out? You can do it at Plastic Beach just as fucking well.”

“Don’t dare to tell me where and how I’m going to save your arse. You have no clue all the fucking shite I got to do.”

“It’ll be a lot harder to get it done if you’re down in Hell getting dragged through boiling shit by fucking banshees.”

“Fuck off Liam, I ain’t going, end of, so shut the fuck up.”

“I’ll get my cyborg to drag you out of here if I fucking have to.”

“I’ll get Weller to bash your teeth in then and don’t think I’ll not.”

“Fucking hell Noel, will you just get your fucking head out of your own arse.”

“No, you listen to me, you fucking prick, _I’m_ the one who’s sorting this out because you’re too much of a fucking idiot to do it yourself, so _I’m_ the one who’s going to say what’s what. I’m staying here and you’re going to leave right now and fuck off back to Plastic Beach and wait for me to tell you when you can come back, got it dickhead?”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do any of this,” Liam spat. “You’re the one who took it on so I should have a say as well.”

“You’re a right ungrateful prick, you are,” Noel growled. “If I’d not stepped in the Boogieman would be roasting you on a spit right about now.”

“Fuck you,” Liam spat.

“No, fuck _you_ , Liam,” Noel shot back, pushing Liam’s shoulder. “I’ve been working myself to death for you and here you are with your fucking boyfriend just begging to get caught again and trying to tell me what to do. You know what Liam, if the Boogieman does catch you again I’m not going to get you this time, I can’t be fucking arsed.”

Liam’s jaw clenched in anger, but Damon could see the slight tremble in his lips that he knew meant that Noel had hurt him. Without warning, Liam hurled the beer glass at the wall, shattering it.

“What the fuck, you fucking cunt?” Noel shouted. Liam looked furious, bearing his teeth like a dog. Damon was about to leap up again to push them apart and break up the inevitable fight, when suddenly both Liam and Noel’s eyes lit up, shining like blue lights. Damon gasped loudly, throwing himself back as he was flooded by memories that he had pushed aside as dreams or momentary hallucinations. Liam and Noel turned to him reflexively, the lights disappearing as soon as they looked away from each other.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked with alarm.

“Your eyes, they lit up, both of you,” Damon stuttered. Noel and Liam turned again to look at each other in confusion.

“He can see it as well?” Noel questioned in disbelief.

“What does that mean?” Damon breathed, his eyes anxiously studying their confused expressions. “Have others seen it happen?”

“Yeah, but only a few people,” Noel answered uneasily, turning back to Damon. “Our Mam was the first to notice it and we thought she had lost the plot, but then Paul and Meg started seeing it as well-”

“And Patsy,” Liam broke in. “And Bonehead sometimes, but he usually can’t be arsed about it.”

“So it’s only people who are really close to us,” Noel continued and then smirked. “Suppose you two must be boyfriends after all if you can see it as well.”

Liam shoved Noel’s shoulder. “Fuck off.”

“So I’m not insane, your eyes actually do light up?” Damon asked, ignoring Noel.

“Yeah, you dumb fuck,” Noel answered impatiently.

“But why?” Damon asked, bewildered.

“We don’t know,” Noel replied in a frustrated voice. “It only happens during or right after a bad fight or if one of us is really angry, but it’s always us both that light up and whether we’re together or not. It started after we got famous, so we figure that it has to do with the contract, but we can’t sort out how or why.”

“The solicitors think that there’s something in the contract about Noel as well as me,” Liam said quietly, shifting his weight from one foot from the other. Damon frowned, wondering for a moment if maybe that was the true reason why Noel was so invested in Liam’s situation, but Noel shook his head.

“The solicitors don’t know shit,” Noel responded. “You’re an arse and a fucking moron, but you wouldn’t drag me into this.”

“But we don’t know,” Liam answered guiltily. “Which is why you should come with us.”

Noel sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Look, Liam, even if I wanted to come, I can’t, there’s too much that’s got to get done.”

Liam drew his eyebrows tightly together, probably trying to think of ways to convince and/or force Noel to come with them. Damon sighed, not sure whether he should be persuading Noel to come or Liam to give up. He turned away to stare out the glass doors and noticed a small fighter plane flying in the near distance. It looked like a vintage model, maybe even as old as World War II, and it was flying extremely low. He studied it for a few moments, wondering why someone would be flying a plane like that over LA. Damon could hear its whine as it came closer, flying so low that he was worried that maybe it would hit their building.

“Fucking hell,” he heard Liam say. He turned his head and looked at him. He was staring at the plane too with wide, unblinking eyes.

“What, do you think that’s for us?” Damon said jokingly, but Liam didn’t even acknowledge him. Noel turned to the doors as well, his eyes becoming foreboding as he saw it approach. Damon’s heart sank.

“It’s just a fucking plane, Liam,” Noel said, though he didn’t manage to entirely hide the nervous waver in his voice.

“It could be one of the pirates he hired,” Liam replied, not tearing his eyes away from the plane.

“Pirates?” Damon questioned.

“The Boogieman hired out some assassins-”

“Pirates,” Liam corrected. “Assassins are expensive, pirates are cheap.” Noel rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, _pirates,_ to help track down Liam and they keep popping up everywhere, but they’re too thick to know how to fly. It’ll go over.”

The room fell silent as they stared anxiously at the plane as it approached. Damon began to shake as he prayed for the plane to pass over them, but there was a tension in the air that implied that they all knew it wouldn’t. Sure enough, shots rang out from the plane when it was finally close enough to take aim.

“Get down!” Noel yelled as a bullet shattered the glass doors and they all scrambled to dive behind the bed. The cyborg jerked awake from its stupor and with inhuman speed grabbed a large machine gun hidden beneath the bed and ran outside, firing rapidly at the plane. At the same instant, Noel’s Paul Weller cyborg burst into the room with the same machine gun model in his hands. In a flash he ran to stand beside Liam’s cyborg and shoot along with him.

“Look at what you fucking did!” Noel screamed at Liam. Liam simply stared at him with impossibly wide eyes, his chest heaving with heavy, forced breaths. “If you’d done what I told you none of this would be happening!”

“Noel, back off!” Damon shouted. “Do you think you’re helping anything?”

The plane roared as it passed over them, the shots going silent but the air suddenly filling with the frantic shouts of people on the street below. Noel sighed heavily, his entire body noticeably shaking.

“Right, we only have a bit of time before the plane circles back and starts shooting again,” he said quickly. “You lot need to get out of LA _now_ before more pirates show up. Where is the Aston?”

“It’s a five minutes’ walk away,” Damon answered, Liam still looking too shaken to say much.

“Fucking hell, might as well be back in England,” Noel scoffed. “Take my Rolls. It’s down the street.”

Liam shook his head, bringing himself out of his shock. “You’re coming with us.”

“I _can’t_ , Liam, honestly,” Noel groaned with frustration. “We’re close to getting ahold of the contract and I can’t leave now without it all going to shit again. Weller will take care of the plane and I’ll sort everything else out later, so please just fucking leave, I’m begging you.”

“Noel…” Liam breathed, biting his lip.

“You don’t have time to argue with me, dickhead. Go, _now_.”

Liam was still hesitating, staring at him with unblinking eyes. Damon groaned, knowing they were running out of time.

“Noel’s right, Liam,” Damon said, standing up and grabbing Liam’s arms, forcing him to his feet. “We have to leave.”

“Oi, Noel!” Noel shouted at the cyborg as he stood. The cyborg turned around to face him. “Get these fucking idiots out of here.”

“Take the gun,” Noel said as the cyborg crossed the room towards them.

“No, keep it,” Liam replied. “You need it.”

“I don’t.

“Yes you do.”

“Fuck Liam, will you stop fighting me about every little thing. I have Weller, I’ll manage.” He turned to his wardrobe and fished out a set of keys and forced them into Liam’s hand. “I’ll find a way to come and get the Rolls back at the port later after you’ve left, alright? Stick to the coast and keep off the highways, even after it gets dark. And _do not_ fucking leave the island again until you’ve heard word from me. I’ll try to get a message through by tomorrow. Now, fucking leave or I’ll get Weller to throw you out.”

Liam stood staring at him for one moment more before Damon tugged on his hand. Liam turned to look at Damon, a pleading expression written across his face. Damon tried to smile reassuringly and Liam’s face hardened with sudden determination. Without a goodbye to Noel, he turned around and hurried out of the room. Damon sighed with relief as he and the cyborg with his gun at the ready followed closely behind.

-

“Mr. Gallagher, don’t go out there!” the same receptionist from earlier yelled as they ran across the lobby. She was cowering behind her desk, her pretty green eyes filled with fear. “I heard gunshots!”

“Nothing to worry about love, you’re alright!” Liam called from across the lobby. Damon huffed behind him and rolled his eyes.

In the street there were people running and pointing at the sky as the sound of the plane’s gears turning came from overhead.

“Fuck,” Liam breathed. “We gotta move. Where’s that fucking Rolls?”

They frantically looked up and down the street, the panic making it hard to concentrate on their surroundings, especially with the approaching growl of the plane, until Liam smiled.

“There!” he exclaimed while pointing. Damon followed the line of his finger and his eyes landed on a hideous yellow Phantom V decorated with red psychedelic swirls and Edwardian style flowers parked a block down the street.

“What the fuck is that?” Damon questioned as they ran towards it.

Liam shrugged. “Used to belong to John Lennon.”

“Of course it did,” Damon muttered.

The sound of shots began to ring out again. Liam and Damon ducked instinctively, craning their necks upwards to search for the plane. It was close, but far away enough that it would be difficult to take proper aim at moving targets.

“Jesus, God, fuck,” Liam panted as they started to run again, dodging the panicked people rushing around them. Shots rang out once again, this time much closer. The cyborg turned and ran backwards as it began to shoot at the plane and managed to hit it. Smoke poured from the plane and it swayed in the air, but continued to shoot. Liam and Damon tried to run faster, but then there came the sound of a sickening metallic crunch as a shot landed. They turned around and Liam inhaled sharply, coming to a complete stop.

“Oh God, oh _fuck_!” he screamed as he stared at the image of his brother standing in front of him with a bullet hole through his head. The cyborg twitched uncannily, his machinery whirring defectively. Damon was worried Liam was about to faint or be sick as the color drained from his face and his breathing became shallower.

“It’s okay Liam, it’s just a robot,” Damon said as comfortingly as he could while grabbing his arm and trying to force him to run. The cyborg twitched once more before resuming his gun shots, though with perhaps less accuracy than before. “See, he’s alright, let’s go!”

Liam gave one last shaky breath before turning to run. The plane flew over them without any more shots landing and Damon sighed with relief. When they finally reached the car, Liam fumbled with the keys, struggling to open the doors as the adrenaline began to catch up to him.

“Do you think he can drive?” Damon asked anxiously, gesturing to the cyborg. He was still twitching disturbingly, sparks beginning to fly from the bullet hole in his head.

“Don’t know,” Liam said as he finally unlocked the door. “I’ll drive. I’m faster anyway.”

“Since when can you drive?”

“You pick up a few things when you’re on the run, mate,” Liam answered as he herded the cyborg into the backseat.

Damon climbed into the passenger side uneasily, not trusting Liam’s driving abilities, but also knowing that he didn’t have much of a choice. Liam scrambled into the driver’s seat, turning the engine over easily enough, but then immediately pulling out onto the left side of the road.

“Liam, Americans drive on the right!” Damon shouted as a Camaro came hurtling towards them, its horn blaring.

“Sorry, fuck,” Liam answered as he swerved out of the Camaro’s way. Without warning, Liam pulled the car into a U-turn with sickening speed, making Damon’s stomach flip. The car stalled for a few moments as Liam fumbled with the gears, but the car lurched back to life, speeding down the street and turning sharply around the corner with a screech from the tires, heading north and out of Santa Monica.

-

It wasn’t until they were half an hour out of LA and it was clear that the plane hadn’t tracked them that Damon let himself begin to breathe again. Liam followed Noel’s advice and kept to solitary back roads along cliffs above the ocean. Damon focused on the blue line of the horizon and the progressing sunset as the adrenaline left his system, making his entire body shake. Liam drove fast and jerkily down the curving road and Damon’s carsickness soon came back with a vengeance. He was about to roll down his window and stick his head outside when he was startled by the sound of Liam laughing.

“Fucking hell, Damon,” he laughed. “What the fuck was all that?”

Damon smiled. “I have no clue,” he said, beginning to laugh as well. They laughed for what felt like hours, bad American music blasting from the radio as they sped down the deserted road. He knew it was just their bodies attempting to cope with shock, but it felt good and cathartic. Eventually they calmed down and the tension in the air eased considerably. Damon felt relieved as he began to shake less, but as his head cleared he couldn’t help but immediately begin to go over all of the things Noel had said. Fresh waves of guilt rose in him as he grappled with his accusations, which Damon realized were not entirely unfair.

“Can I ask you something?” Damon asked hesitatingly, turning down the Guns N’ Roses song on the radio as one particular thought entered his brain.

“Yeah, what?”

“What did Noel mean exactly about the Boogieman catching you before?”

Liam frowned, keeping his eyes focused on the road. “I don’t like to talk ‘bout it.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Damon answered.

“It’s alright,” Liam replied shrugging. “Just a long story.”

Damon looked at Liam’s profile and his frown, trying to guess what had happed. “Liam, I think I should thank you.”

Liam glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “For what?”

“You know, for saving me from the Boogieman and all that.”

“Right,” Liam breathed, shrugging again. “I owed you anyway, didn’t I?”

“You’ve never owed me anything, Liam.”

“Don’t know about that,” Liam said uneasily. Damon bit his lip, memories of two years before rising up again, but he pushed them down. ~~~~

“Can I ask something else?” Damon ventured uncertainly after another few moments.

“What?”

“How much does Noel know about, er…us?”

Liam turned his head slightly to eye him suspiciously. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing much,” Damon replied, trying to avoid letting on exactly what Noel had said. “I just didn’t know that he knew anything about us at all.”

Liam turned his eyes back to the road with a huff. “He made some guesses after I started sneaking off in London, but I never told him nothing.”

“He seems to care a lot about you, you know,” Damon said after a moment.

Liam scoffed. “Did you not hear the way he carried on screaming at me?”

“He’s just stressed.”

“Stressed about money more like.”

“It’s about you, Liam, not the money.”

“Yeah? How do you know?” Liam sneered.

“Does it matter? I just _know_.”

“You’re talking out of your arse.”

Damon clenched his jaw, but didn’t reply. He felt too exhausted to try and argue with Liam. He sighed and stared down the road, leaning his head back and sinking into the seat. It wasn’t long until he closed his eyes and began to drift, his mind mercifully going quiet. It must have been another half an hour when he heard Liam swearing to himself. Damon rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice soft with sleepiness.

“There’s a car coming up behind us,” Liam replied, looking into the rearview mirror. “It’s going bloody fast.”

Damon looked over his shoulder out of the back window. There was a black Porsche in the near distance, quickly closing the gap between them.

“Pull over, then, and let it pass you,” Damon said, turning to face forward again.

“Oi, I’m the driver.”

“Whatever, Liam,” Damon muttered, closing his eyes again, too tired to care. But then he heard a loud noise go off somewhere behind them. He sat up and turned around to face the sound of the noise, only seeing the Porsche.

“Was that a fucking gunshot?” Liam shouted, his wide eyes turning to Damon’s. Sure enough, another shot sounded, blasting off the passenger side view mirror.

“Fuck’s sake!” Liam screamed, slamming his hands down hard in frustration against the steering wheel. Damon turned to stare at the rapidly approaching car, tearing at his hair in panic.

“Come on, come on, drive faster!” Damon yelled frantically.

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” Liam spat back. “It’s a Rolls Royce, but it’s not a fucking sports car, it can’t beat a Porsche.”

“Fuck, what are we going to do?” Damon babbled. He turned to face forward again and in the distance he saw a tall figure standing in the middle of the road. They were too far off to see what they looked like, but the sight of it made Damon’s heart stutter. “Who the fuck is that?” Damon shouted, though he had a good guess who. He turned to Liam. He was breathing hard, but his face looked eerily calm as he stared at the figure.

“Ever seen _Thelma and Louise_?” he asked.

“ _What_?!”

Liam suddenly swerved and stepped on the gas, shooting the car over the cliff and into the ocean. Damon screamed as the car hit the water with a sickening jolt, but Liam remained calm. Damon heard the sound of metallic groans and scraping, but his body suddenly felt impossibly heavy as the blood rushed through his head. He accepted the fact that he was about to die and fell into unconsciousness.

-

The sound of a vaguely familiar mechanical whirring drew Damon out of unconsciousness. He opened his eyes slowly and sat up, feeling dizzy as he tried to make sense of his cramped surroundings. All around him were ugly conglomerations of white pipes that again seemed weirdly familiar, though he couldn’t place where he had seen it before. The arched walls were a dull yellow and decorated with sixties-esque psychedelic patterns and flowers. He turned his head to look out a round window beside him and was startled to see a swarm of jellyfishes float by. He realized that he was underwater and in some kind of submarine.

“ _I am sailing, stormy waters, to be near you, to be free_ ,” he heard Liam’s voice sing nearby. Damon turned to see Liam leaning against the captain’s chair with the cyborg sat steering the submarine. Damon groaned and lay back down on his bench.

“Will you shut up?” he muttered. “I fucking hate Rod Stewart.”

“Me as well,” Liam answered, turning to face Damon without missing a beat. “He’s a Man United supporter.”

Damon scoffed and placed his arm over his eyes as Liam came and sat down on the bench.

“I didn’t know that you faint so much.”

“I don’t,” Damon replied bitterly. “But it’s a bit of a different situation when I’m about to fucking die.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I know, unless this is the afterlife,” Damon answered, moving his arm to study the strange interior of the submarine, trying to place where he had seen it before. “So the Rolls Royce…”

“It turns into a submarine,” Liam finished. “I already sent a message to Noel through the cyborg that we had to take it. He’s going to fucking explode, wouldn’t even let me drive it before today.”

“Where do you find these bloody things?” Damon sighed.

“Ringo sold it to us,” Liam replied, shrugging. Damon opened his mouth to reply, but then was suddenly hit with the memory of being seven years old and sat in front of the television, watching a film and singing along to Beatle songs. His eyes grew wide as he finally understood why the sounds and setting seemed so familiar.

“Liam, please tell me that we are not in a yellow submarine,” Damon demanded flatly. Liam fell silent for a moment.

“Would it matter if we was?”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Damon groaned. Liam furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Don’t you think a yellow submarine is going to stick out like a sore thumb, especially if someone is trying to track a fucking obsessed Beatle fan?”

Liam pursed his lips. “Noel’s the one who bought it.”

Damon placed his face in his hands, letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

“It’s alright, they’re not following us,” Liam said.

“But they can find us.”

Liam shook his head. “Nah, the ocean’s too fucking big to find one submarine, ain’t it?”

Damon fell silent as he looked out the window again to watch the fish swim by. He was almost afraid to look, his imagination expecting some demonic figure to suddenly pop up. He couldn’t help wondering if staying had been the wrong decision as the small size of the submarine and the darkness of the water began to close in, but he knew he was long past the point of no return. Besides, despite the fact that Liam’s presence was exhaustingly heavy with confusing and resentful memories, he knew Liam needed someone to help him through this, though he would probably never admit it out loud. Damon figured that maybe that was the real reason why Liam had saved him, just to have him there, but it didn’t really matter. He didn’t have a choice anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I know paul also had a DB5 that is currently silver, but it was originally blue)
> 
> have a happy and safe holiday!


	4. Chapter 4

_Damon’s back ached from being hunched over his keyboard for too long. He ran through the chord progression one more time before smashing his hands against the keys in frustration. The loud discordant notes woke Graham up from the couch with a start, jostling his guitar with a rough twang._

_“What’s the problem now?” he muttered as he put the guitar down on the cushions and sat up._

_“I can’t sort out the melody,” Damon replied irritably as he impatiently tapped the keys. “I have it in my head, but I can’t externalize it.”_

_“Just give it a rest. You’ll never have it right if you keep pushing too hard.”_

_Damon shook his head. “I can’t stop now, I’ve got to get-”_

_“Damon, I’ll have to send you to a funny farm soon if you keep going on like this,” Graham griped. “It’s almost midnight. Let it go, at least for now.”_

_Damon played one last pathetic note, but the buzzing in his head continued. He rubbed his forehead for a moment, as if that could turn the thoughts off. He turned to Graham with a frustrated sigh. “Maybe you’re right.”_

_“Either way, I’m going home,” Graham said as he stood to grab his guitar case sitting in the corner of Damon’s living room._

_“Don’t you want to play those songs you were talking about?”_

_Graham shook his head as he unzipped the case and put his guitar inside. “It’s too late-I haven’t got it in me now.”_

_“Jesus, Graham, you should have said something,” Damon replied, trying to smile apologetically. “Tomorrow, I promise, we’ll go over your songs.”_

_“That’s what you said last time, remember?”_

_Damon frowned guiltily and turned back to his keyboard and quietly played random scales. He was so preoccupied with writing songs and planning his vision for the next album that he hadn’t been paying much attention to what his bandmates were up to beyond rehearsals and gigs. But he rarely made time for anyone, opting instead to obsess over pinning down the ideas that were taking up far too much room in his head. Damon scowled and began the chord progression again as more thoughts began to pile on top of each other._

_“For Christ’s sake,” Graham groaned._

_“Oh, piss off.”_

_Graham walked to the keyboard and grabbed Damon’s wrist, silencing the chords. “Enough.”_

_Damon lifted his head to glare at him and wrenched his hand away. “Sorry, mummy dearest.”_

_“There’s a good lad,” Graham replied, patting the side of Damon’s head and smiling smugly. “I’m taking the day off tomorrow and I think for the sake of your sanity you should too.”_

_“Day off?”_

_“Yes, we don’t have a studio booked or a gig to play for another week. You need a holiday, and that means no demos or songwriting.”_

_Damon scoffed. “No songwriting? What will I do all day?”_

_“I don’t know. When’s the last time you saw Justine?”_

_“Last week, I think.”_

_Graham knitted his brows together sternly. “You’ve been together for years and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve seen her?”_

_“She’s busy with her own band and she knows I’m working,” Damon replied, though he knew it was a weak excuse. Graham frowned disapprovingly._

_“When are you two finally going to move in together?”_

_Damon looked away and shrugged. “Soon, we just haven’t sorted it out yet. Maybe after the tour.”_

_“She won’t wait forever, you realize?”_

_Damon met Graham’s eyes again. “What are you going to be doing tomorrow then?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that he wanted to change the subject._

_“Have a lie in,” Graham replied, shrugging. “Head to the pub.”_

_“You’re at the pub every day.”_

_“All the more reason, can’t disappoint the fans.”_ _Graham slung the strap on his guitar case over his shoulder and adjusted his glasses._

_Damon studied his face for a few moments, a familiar, but small glimmer of concern rising, but he pushed it aside. Graham began to head towards the front door and Damon rose to follow him._

_“Just get some sleep, alright?” Graham said as he stood by the door. “If those bags under your eyes were any darker you’d be a bloody raccoon.”_

_Damon rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “I can’t sleep, my head’s too…” he waved his hand in the air, as if the vague gesture could explain what it felt like to have a hyperactive brain. Graham frowned but was interrupted by the phone suddenly ringing from the kitchen._

_“Who could that be?” Graham asked._

_“It must be Justine,” Damon responded as he went to answer it, Graham following him to the doorway. He felt relieved that she was calling as he picked up the phone. Graham was right that they hadn’t been spending enough time together in the past months. He really did miss her, even if it was his fault for not making time._

_“Hello?”_

_“Can I come over?”_

_Damon stiffened. The voice wasn’t Justine’s, but he knew who it was in an instant._

_“Liam?”_

_“Who else, you twit?”_

_Damon turned and cautiously met Graham’s eyes. His brows were furrowed in confusion and he was pressing his lips together._

_“I’m not sure now is a good time.”_

_“Why not? Is somebody with you?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Who, Justine?”_

_“No, Graham.”_

_“Oh, him then? Tell him to leave.”_

_Damon sighed, wondering for a moment if he should turn him down, but he knew he didn’t want to, especially since being with Liam was much more appealing than hovering restlessly over his keyboard for the rest of the night. “He’s already on his way out.”_

_“Sorted, then.”_

_The line clicked and then went dead. Damon slowly put the phone down and turned to Graham who continued to stare at him with a stony expression._

_“Who was that?”_

_“Liam,” Damon replied cautiously._

_“Liam who?”_

_“Er, Liam Gallagher.”_

_Graham’s face hardened and Damon clenched his jaw, bracing for impact._ _“What the fuck is Liam bloody Gallagher calling you in the middle of the night for?”_

_“He wants to come over.”_

_“What?” Graham’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you two friends now?”_

_Damon frowned. Friend probably wasn’t the right term to use. In the handful of times that they had gotten together in the past two months they had done little else besides get pissed and fuck, but that obviously wasn’t something he wanted Graham to know. He shrugged as casually as he could manage._

_“Well, not close friends, but yeah.”_

_“Damon, he nearly smashed your face in.”_

_“That was Noel. Liam’s harmless once you get to know him, really.”_

_Graham scoffed. “I don’t trust either of them for a second.”_

_“Don’t you think it’s a bit childish to still be holding a grudge?”_

_Graham sighed, looking exasperated. “I suppose he’s on his way?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“I should be going then.”_

_“You can stay, if you want,” Damon said guiltily._

_“I never want to see that git again if I can help it,” Graham muttered, turning around and heading towards the door. Damon nodded, trying to hide his relief, and walked Graham out._

_It was only a few minutes after Graham had left that Damon heard a familiar pounding on his door, but when he answered Liam didn’t greet him with a cocky smile like he usually did. Instead, he scowled and fidgeted impatiently, his eyes bright and foreboding. He didn’t wait for Damon to invite him in before pushing past him._

_“Is everything alright?” Damon asked as he closed the door, trying to not be bothered by Liam’s rudeness. Liam didn’t respond but rushed forward suddenly and crushed his mouth against Damon’s, backing him up against the wall. Damon absentmindedly returned the kiss for a few moments, before pushing against Liam’s chest._

_“Jesus, Liam,” he said breathlessly. “Slow down, will you?”_

_Liam knitted his brows. “Why?”_

_“You’ve only just walked in the door.”_

_“So?”_

_“You have to at least talk to me for a minute before you start trying to shag me.”_

_Liam sneered and stepped away from him. “What do you expect, to paint each other’s toenails all night?” Liam snapped._

_Damon frowned at him. “You seem upset.”_

_“I’m not,” he responded curtly, though he looked as angry as ever. Damon watched him as he began to pace, his eyes roaming around the room agitatedly._

_“Where did you come from just now?”_

_“Noel’s flat.”_

_Damon rolled his eyes. “What happened?”_

_“Nothing,” Liam answered roughly._

_Damon ran a hand through his hair, knowing that it was going to be a long night, but Liam turned to him suddenly and grabbed his jaw, kissing him again and sucking on his lip. For a moment it was hard to keep his head straight, but he pulled back and Liam groaned in annoyance, fisting the fabric at the back of Damon’s shirt. Damon couldn’t help smirking a little, but then looked into Liam’s eyes and noticed that his pupils were blown._

_“Liam, you’re not high, are you?” Damon asked as his stomach sank a little and he connected the dots._

_“A little, but I’m starting to come down.”_

_Damon sighed. “Right, then.” Damon began to walk towards his bedroom and Liam followed behind him._

_“Where the fuck are you going?”_

_“To find a jumper,” Damon responded as he opened his wardrobe and flung clothes aside. “We’re going for a walk.”_

_“A walk? I ain’t going for a fucking walk.”_

_“I need some air, and I think you do too,” Damon answered as he pulled a jumper over his head._

_“A proper fuck is what I need.”_

_Damon gritted his teeth for a moment, but then walked past Liam and towards the door. “I won’t stop you if you want to find someone else.”_

_Liam remained silent for a moment, and Damon worried that he might really leave to find another person to spend the night with, but then he heard him groan in frustration and begin to follow. Damon was a little angry at himself for feeling relieved by the sound of Liam’s heavy footsteps coming up behind him, but it also wasn’t something that he could really help._

_-_

_Damon wondered as they meandered through Hyde Park if it would make Liam angry to know how fascinated he was by the way he walked. Shoulders paradoxically slung back and slouched at the same time, swinging long arms, and rhythmic, masculine, and almost comically ungraceful steps. Maybe it was just an Ian Brown thing, but it seemed so uniquely suited to Liam that Damon couldn’t imagine him moving any other way._

_“What you looking at?” Liam asked gruffly, bringing Damon out of his thoughts._

_“You, you wanker,” Damon responded, fighting off his first instinct to look away and grant Liam the satisfaction._

_“What for?”_

_Damon pointed down at the ground. “You’ve got small feet.”_

_“Yeah? You should see Noel’s.”_

_“Right, I need a smoke,” Damon said as he stepped off the path to lean against a tree and fish his pack from out of his jeans. Liam followed him and sat down on the ground and eased his back against the trunk._

_“You alright?” Damon asked as he lit up._

_“Yeah, I’m just fucking knackered, man. You trying to walk me back to Manchester?”_

_Damon smiled and nudged him with his foot. “We can turn around now if you’d like.”_

_“Give us a ciggie first.”_

_Damon dropped his pack and lighter into his lap and moved to sit in the grass beside him, hoping he wouldn’t get too much mud on his jeans. He watched Liam’s face as it was illuminated by the flame and then how he leaned his head back to exhale the smoke skywards. For all of Liam’s roughness and inelegance, he could be so effortlessly beautiful sometimes that it made him seem almost inhuman._

_Liam leaned forward and began to pull out pieces of grass, shaking his leg restlessly. He wasn’t scowling anymore like earlier, but his eyebrows were still knitted together, as if he were concentrating on something important. He raised his head suddenly and met Damon’s eyes._

_“You’re staring again, weirdo.”_

_Damon shrugged. “Just trying to guess what you’re thinking.”_

_“Not fucking much, me.”_

_“Will you tell me what happened tonight?” Damon ventured after a moment. Liam sneered and leaned back and rested his head against the tree._

_“Why are you so fucking keen to know?”_

_“I just want to make sure everything’s alright.”_

_“Don’t see how it’s your business.”_

_“I don’t see the harm in us getting to know each other better either,” Damon responded firmly and bumped him again with his elbow. “Talk to me. Is it about Noel?”_

_Liam narrowed his eyes. “No.”_

_“Then what is it?”_

_“If I’d wanted to tell you I would’ve already.”_

_Damon frowned and took a long drag. Liam stubbed his cigarette out in the grass and began to unlace his trainers._

_“What are you doing?” Damon asked._

_“Taking me shoes off,” Liam said as he yanked off the shoe on his left foot. “Just bought the fucking things and I’ve got blisters thanks to you.”_

_“Ugh, I don’t want to see that.”_

_Liam raised his head to smirk mischievously and peeled one of his socks off and threw it at Damon’s face._

_“Fucking hell, Liam,” Damon complained as he desperately flung the sock away from him._

_“Serves you right, twat,” Liam laughed. Damon scowled at him, before beginning to smirk and flicking his cigarette into the grass. Liam’s smile faded a little before Damon lunged forward and tackled him, causing them to ungracefully slide off the trunk of the tree and tumble onto the grass. Damon landed half on top of Liam, but he pushed up quickly and flipped them over, pinning Damon to the ground._

_“Did you do that just to get me on top of you?” Liam asked, smiling down at him cockily._

_“Of course,” Damon responded, not struggling underneath Liam. “If I’d really taken a go, you’d be face down in the mud right now.”_

_“Ooh, hard man, eh?” Liam answered before shifting down to kiss Damon messily. Damon groaned and wanted desperately to meet Liam’s sudden grinding, but he pushed up on his hips._

_“Come on, off,” Damon said as he broke away. “Don’t want anybody to see.”_

_Liam scoffed, but rolled onto his back beside Damon. “I don’t care.”_

_“I think you’ll be saying something different when your face is plastered on the front of the Sun in the morning.”_

_Liam shook his head and looked wistful for a moment. “Pretty soon they’ll have a different picture of me in the papers every day.”_

_“I don’t know how much you’ll like that if it happens.”_

_“When, not if.”_

_Damon grimaced. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t annoyed and maybe even a little intimidated by Oasis’s growing success. It seemed so easy for them, like they weren’t even trying. He tried to shake it off though. They probably shared more fans than not anyways._

_He turned his head to study Liam. His face was pointed upwards, as if he were studying the stars that were blotted out by the light pollution._

_“I still think we should get to know each other better, you know.”_

_“What for?”_

_“Does there really need to be a reason? I just want to know more about you, Liam, that’s all.”_

_“What do you want to know, then?” Liam asked impatiently. Damon thought for a moment._

_“How about your earliest memory? That’s a good place to start, isn’t it?”_

_Liam exhaled sharply through his nose and grinded his jaw and Damon thought for a moment that he was going to shut him out again. “I can’t remember how old I was,” Liam began, almost startling Damon. “But my Mam had to go out to work and there weren’t anybody to look after me. She had to leave me in the house by myself, and that’s what I remember, waiting for her to come back.”_

_Damon frowned guiltily. He had expected something like playing in the park with his brothers or watching a cartoon on the telly, not something so personal. “She left you alone?”_

_“Don’t go on judging her,” Liam responded harshly. “She needed to make money.”_

_“Where was your father?”_

_“Couldn’t be arsed.”_

_“What about your brothers?”_

_“Probably cutting school with their mates,” Liam answered. “I don’t blame them neither-I would’ve done the same.”_

_Damon stared at him nervously. His childhood had been uncomplicated and happy, and he would never have left his sister on her own. He felt almost embarrassed as he grasped just how different Liam’s experiences were from his, which he hadn’t even thought to seriously consider._

_“I’m sorry,” Damon said._

_Liam turned his head to glare at him. “What for?”_

_“That you went through that.”_

_“Fuck off,” Liam growled, his face hardening. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”_

_“I just meant that I didn’t know that about you,” Damon replied, trying to backpedal._

_“Course you don’t,” Liam spat. “And what about you then? What’s your memory, you off in some posh place, I reckon?”_

_Damon paused, unsure how to reply gracefully since his earliest memory was feeding ducks in a park in Berlin. Liam noticed his hesitation and scoffed._

_“See, that’s the fucking problem with you and your lot,” Liam said as he sat up. “You think you’re clever with your cockney disco tunes, but you don’t know shit besides being a fucking art student.”_

_“That’s not fair, Liam,” Damon retorted as he sat up as well. “Just because I’m not a fucking coal miner doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on around me and can’t make music about it.”_

_“Yeah, like what? Feeding pigeons?”_

_Damon glared at him. “What about John Lennon then? He was an art student.”_

_“Lennon never pretended to be anybody he weren’t,” Liam shot back, clearly incensed at the reference. “He knew what it’s like to be on the fucking dole with nowhere to go. Just because you’ve got Jimmy Cooper to sing on your fucking album don’t mean you’ve got a clue about what the kids are going through and what tunes they should be listening to.”_

_“And you and Noel do? Songs about drinking and being a rock star?”_

_“Noel writes songs about life being worth living,” Liam replied venomously, jabbing a finger in Damon’s direction. “And what are your tunes about? Going on holiday?”_

_Damon pursed his lips, surprised by Liam’s intensity. It didn’t seem like him to be so emotionally involved in his brother’s songwriting, but it occurred to Damon suddenly that Liam truly lived the songs that demanded survival and fierce confidence and optimism in the face of uncertainty and inopportunity. He was more than an aggressive rockstar with an ego problem, he was the image of believing that life could be more than what was given. Damon softened, studying the drawn line of Liam’s brow and the intense glare in his eyes._

_“You’re right,” Damon responded, suddenly feeling guilty for pushing Liam so far._

_"What?”_

_“You’re right,” Damon repeated. “I hadn’t thought about what your songs really meant before now.”_

_Liam blinked at him, his lips parting a little, but not saying anything. Damon guessed that he had expected more of a fight, or at least not for him to agree._

_“I’m not saying that my music doesn’t mean anything,” Damon continued. “But I understand why your songs are important.”_

_Liam closed his jaw and quickly regained his confident sneer. He shrugged and pointed at him again. “Too fucking right.”_

_They fell into a silence as Damon took a moment to absorb Liam and the new information he had presented. He was becoming both more familiar and more of a mystery at the same time, and Damon was becoming more invested. He wasn’t sure if it was just because he was so attracted to him or that there was something about his angst, humor, and brash confidence that Damon related to, but he wondered briefly if Liam could feel it too. Liam’s eyes flicked up, catching Damon’s._

_“Am I staring again?” Damon asked before Liam could say anything._

_“Yeah, it’s creeping me out, man.”_

_Damon smiled and cocked his head a little. “You know, I rather like your eyebrows,” Damon said. “They suit you.”_

_Damon brought his hand up and traced them and the spot where they connected slightly. He hadn’t meant for it to be intimate, trying to be more tongue-in-cheek, but something about the stillness of the moment and the way Liam’s expression softened as he stared at him silently made it feel strangely intense but gentle. Liam eyed him suspiciously for a few moments, evidently trying to gauge his intentions, but then looked away awkwardly, raising his head up again to stare at the sky. Damon breathed deeply and then stood up._

_“I think we should be going now. It’s getting late.”_

_Liam looked up at him and nodded, beginning to search for the sock he had thrown at Damon._

_“Do you want me to walk you to your hotel?” Damon asked._

_Liam shook his head as he found the sock and pulled it on. “I don’t want to go back to that fucking hotel.”_

_“Don’t you have to be in the studio in the morning?”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_Damon sighed, Liam’s face looking sulky. “Does this have something to do with tonight?”_

_Liam shrugged restlessly. “Sort of.”_

_“How?”_

_“We got banned from our last hotel for trashing it, right?” he said as he began to lace his shoe. “And I fucking don’t want to go to another one ‘cause I’m sick of them, so I went to Noel’s flat, but he chucked me out ‘cause he’s got a bird there and didn’t want me round to ruin it.”_

_“Is that it?” Damon asked, a little surprised. Liam’s frown deepened._

_"I don’t give a fuck about Noel or what he’s up to, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he responded flatly. “I’m just tired of there not being anywhere for me to go.”_

_Damon felt guilty again, realizing that Liam was frustrated, not angry, and he wondered for a moment if maybe that was true more often than not. He offered Liam his hand to help him get on his feet._

_“Come home with me then.”_

_Liam stared at him, and for a moment Damon worried he was going to turn him down, but then he nodded._

_“I’m not going unless we take a cab back,” Liam said._

_“Alright.” Damon bumped him lightly with his shoulder as they stepped back onto the pathway, walking side by side._

_-_

_Damon was exhausted when they finally made it back to his flat. He collapsed onto his bed, not caring about changing out of his muddy clothes, and enjoyed the feeling of his body sinking into the duvet, but then Liam wasted no time in climbing on top of him, bending down to kiss him. Damon returned it, but broke away when Liam’s hips began to grind a little too hard against his._

_“Aren’t you tired?” Damon asked._

_“No,” Liam replied, panting and looking annoyed._

_“Well, I am,” Damon retorted. “Let’s just go to sleep.”_

_Liam stared at him with furrowed brows, as if he were confused by the very concept. Damon smiled up at him, amused by his pouting, and gripped his hips. “Come on, lie down with me.”_

_He pursed his lips, still hesitating. Damon’s smile began to disappear, not understanding why he was being so insistent, especially since it had seemed like Liam had been just as exhausted as he was before they had made it back. “Have you never just gone to sleep with someone before?”_

_Liam sat up. “I’m not a bird.”_

_“I didn’t say you were,” Damon replied, laughing a little. “I’m not asking to have a cuddle or anything, I just want you to sleep with me.” Damon pushed up on Liam’s hips, coaxing him to get up and off of him, which he did reluctantly. “I’ll give you a pair of trackies, if you’d like.”_

_Liam hesitated once more before shaking his head. “I’ll sleep in my pants.”_

_Damon nodded before standing to pull off his own jeans and jumper and then crawled under the duvet, watching Liam as he did the same. Liam still looked a little uncomfortable and uncertain, so Damon leaned forward and kissed him softly but deep. Liam raised a hand to lightly pull at the hair at the back of Damon’s head and sighed, but Damon pulled back before he got the wrong idea._

_“Goodnight darling,” Damon said before giving him a final chaste peck._

_“Wanker,” Liam grumbled, scowling._

_“Just get some sleep, you randy git,” Damon replied as he finally turned out the lamp on his nightstand. “I’ll make you a proper fry-up in the morning.”_

_Damon laid back down on his side, facing Liam. The last thing Damon was conscious of was the blue of his eyes that almost seemed to glow in dark._

_-_

_Damon woke up to someone sucking on his neck. He assumed it was Justine for a few moments and moved his head to give her more access, sighing softly, but then he remembered who he had really gone to bed with that night._

_“Liam,” he mumbled sleepily as he finally opened his eyes._

_He raised his head and smiled at him cheerfully. “Morning.”_

_Damon simply grunted in response, still not fully awake. Liam continued to suck on his neck, not hard enough to leave marks but enough for Damon to wake up a little more. Then Liam’s hand snaked down and gripped him through his pants._

_“Fuck,” Damon gasped, unconsciously grinding his hips against Liam’s hand._

_“Eager, are we?”_

_“Shut up, it’s the morning,” Damon complained. He turned his head and Liam met his lips, quickly opening his jaw and forcing his tongue into his mouth as he slipped his hand into Damon’s pants. Liam’s hand was annoyingly rough and dry, but Damon still grabbed at his wrist, trying to get him to go faster. After a frustrating minute, Liam snatched his hand away and threw the duvet back, climbing on top of Damon and bearing down onto him. Damon whined and gripped Liam’s hips as they grinded against his._

_“You want it?” Liam asked, cocking his head._

_Damon rolled his eyes, despite already beginning to pant. “Maybe if you brush your teeth first.”_

_“Look who’s talking, eh? Fucking minging, man.”_

_“God, you’re such a prick,” Damon said, laughing and struggling to sit up beneath Liam. “Come on, then.”_

_A few minutes later, Damon was grabbing at the headboard and gripping Liam’s hair. Liam wasn’t going particularly fast, but his thrusts were deep and grinding, making Damon feel every bit of him and hitting him in the right place. Liam’s hand was painfully slow as it slid over him, but Damon could still tell he wouldn’t last long._

_“Yeah,” Damon repeated under his breath in an infinite loop, his brain short circuiting with each movement, but then Liam began to slow. Damon groaned and pulled harder on his hair, trying to discourage him._

_“Talk to me,” Liam said, breathing harshly and smiling arrogantly. Damon scowled. He had never really been one for dirty talk, which Liam was aware of._

_“Don’t be a cunt,” Damon said, still gasping. “Just keep going.”_

_“You can do better than that, love.” Liam slowed down further, using small rolls of his hips, and let go of Damon._

_“I fucking hate you.”_

_“Come on, be good for me.” Liam leaned down and briefly bit down on Damon’s lip, looking so smug that Damon would have throttled him if he wasn’t so desperate. Damon looked up at him and sighed deeply._

_“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out before he could think much about it. Liam tightened his jaw and almost halted completely._

_“None of that,” he huffed._

_“But you are, you’re beautiful,” Damon repeated, partly because it clearly annoyed Liam and partly because he meant it. Damon pulled down on Liam’s head, coaxing him into a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue._

_“Twat,” Liam gritted out after he pulled away, beginning to speed up and deepen again._

_“Liam Gallagher, the most beautiful bloke in all of England, in my bed, shagging me,” Damon said, smirking and tugging on his hair playfully. “Ain’t I lucky?”_

_Liam exhaled sharply and grabbed at the hand fisting his hair and slammed Damon’s wrist onto the mattress, putting his weight onto it to pin it down. Damon gasped, the surprise and forcefulness sending electricity down his spine and then moaned loudly as Liam began to slam into him. Damon let go of the headboard’s slats and reached down to stroke himself, suddenly desperate. It only took him another minute until he came, Liam again smiling down at him arrogantly as he fucked him through it, though this time it intensified the shocks._

_Liam continued to go hard as Damon came down from his high, gripping his wrist so tight that it was painful. Damon bit down harshly on his neck to give himself a bit of control, but he didn’t really mind-anything Liam gave him was worth it just to watch him unravel, sighing deeply and then groaning repeatedly as he finally came._

_Liam collapsed on top of him, sighing contentedly, but pushing the breath out of Damon._

_“Get off of me, you lazy sod,” Damon complained, pushing up on his shoulders. “You’re heavier than you look.”_

_Liam grunted and rolled over after pulling out, still too tired to form words. Damon watched him as he regained his breath, his eyes closed and smiling serenely, and lightly touched the forming bruise on his neck from where he had bit him._

_“Should you be going to the studio now?” Damon asked, reality beginning to creep up suddenly._

_“The studio?” Liam repeated sarcastically as his smile darkened and he opened his eyes to look at Damon. “I ain’t going to the studio.”_

_“Don’t they need you?”_

_“I’ve done my bits mostly,” Liam answered. “I just wait around most of the time.”_

_“Noel won’t be upset?”_

_“He’s too busy fucking with his guitars to be bothered.”_

_Damon nodded, a little uneasy, but he knew it wasn’t his place._

_Liam sat up and looked down at Damon. “Can I stay for longer?”_

_“Yeah,” Damon replied, smiling. “I don’t have anything planned for today anyways.”_

_“What about me fry-up?” Liam responded._

_Damon ran his hand through his hair that had probably been embarrassingly messy even before the sex. “I might need to have a shower first.”_

_“Want company?” Liam asked, cocking his head and flashing him yet another cocky smile._

_Damon smirked and sat up to kiss him. As Liam kissed back, Damon wondered if there were going to be more mornings like this with him. It wasn’t that he wanted something with Liam, God knew that would be a fucking disaster, but it made his gut twist a little to think that this morning could be the first and last time. But something about the way that Liam gripped the back of his head as he deepened the kiss told him it wasn’t going to be._

_-_

It was the middle of the night when they finally made it back to Plastic Beach. Damon had managed to sleep a little on the way back, but the cramped size of the submarine and the threatening void of the ocean outside the windows made it hard to do more than doze. Damon wasn’t sure if Liam had slept, having chosen to spend most of his time pacing up and down the length of the submarine.

But despite it all, Damon didn’t feel tired, or at least not ready to sleep. His brain was too full of images of Santa Monica and travelling through dark water to be ready to adjust to being in a still and safe place. Liam seemed agitated as well, fidgeting, chewing on his nails endlessly, and playing restlessly with his hair. Damon could sense he was exhausted, but also probably wasn’t going to have an easy time settling down either.

As they shuffled into the lift, dragging the twitching cyborg along with them, Damon reached for the button that would take them to the floor where their bedrooms were.

“Are you going to bed?” Liam asked.

“I suppose,” Damon responded, shrugging. “There’s not much else to do, is there?”

Liam grinded his jaw, knitting his brows together. “We could watch telly.”

“Telly?” Damon echoed. The idea of sitting down to watch television after practically getting killed seemed almost comical, but then again he figured it would be a good idea to distract himself, especially if he planned to eventually get some sleep. Damon sighed and pressed the button for the living room floor.

Of course it turned out to be a mistake once they turned on the television and were greeted by a news story about a plane that had been shot down in LA after having released a stream of bullets over Santa Monica. There was some idiot American being interviewed by a wary news reporter about how the plane had been taken down by a guy that kind of looked like that one British guitarist- “you know, the one who does ‘Wonderwall’?”

Damon quickly switched to another channel playing a mediocre American sitcom. Neither he nor Liam laughed at all, mostly just staring blankly at the moving images. Still, Damon’s brain eventually began to settle, the monotony of the sitcom lulling him into a stupor. The next thing he was aware of was waking up to the dull flickering of the television and the sound of Liam’s deep breaths as he slept beside him. Outside of the windows dawn was just beginning to break, the first rays of sunshine turning the horizon light blue.

He groaned quietly as he sat up and stretched, feeling stiff and sore. Liam was slouched into the cushions with his arms crossed tightly across his chest while he murmured indistinctly in his sleep. Damon could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids and he wondered what he was dreaming about.

As he leaned his hand onto his palm and shook his leg nervously, he thought again about what Noel had said to him in Santa Monica. He obviously didn’t know what Liam’s full intentions were and how he still felt, but considering their last disastrous encounter it probably wasn’t a bad idea to keep his distance. He knew that would be difficult, especially since Liam seemed to need the company, but he figured as long as he at least steered clear of touchy subjects and kept his guard up then it might work out.

But as Damon thought over it more, he felt angry again that Noel believed that he had been drawn into Liam’s life because of the contract. If it was true, then it didn’t make sense why Damon had been the one to end their relationship, or whatever it had been. Not to mention that Liam was the one who became so reliant on him that towards the end it had bordered on exploitation. As ridiculous as it seemed, their relationship was too complicated and confusing to be based on a curse, or at least that was what Damon hoped.

Damon sighed and cracked his knuckles, wondering whether he should go to his own bed and how difficult it would be to fall back asleep, but then he noticed that Liam’s face was beginning to twitch and his eyes were moving quicker underneath his lids. He grinded his jaw and whimpered, his breathing becoming faster as he drew his eyebrows tightly together and grimaced. Damon stared at him anxiously as he continued to mumble and whine in his sleep, remembering what he had said about nightmares, but just before he was about to try to wake him, Liam’s eyes suddenly flew open, his head jerking slightly to study his surroundings while he groaned and murmured unintelligibly under his breath.

“Are you alright?” Damon asked as Liam gained more consciousness and sighed.

“Yeah, erm, yeah,” Liam answered groggily, beginning to sit up a little.

“Were you having a nightmare?”

Liam rubbed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Damon asked, being careful to study his expression. So far, he just looked sleepy, but his frown twitched.

“No.”

Damon nodded reluctantly, still worried, but he understood.

“What time is it?” Liam asked.

“I’m not sure, but the sun is starting to come up.”

Liam fell back into the cushions, blinking slowly. He looked pale and exhausted, his eyes drooping and his jaw slack.

“Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

Liam shook his head.

“I think you should try. You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine.”

Damon frowned. “When was the last time you slept through the night?”

“Fuck if I can remember,” Liam said. Damon stood up, offering Liam his hand.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your bedroom.”

Liam glared up at him, but looked too tired to even open his mouth to tell him to fuck off. Damon dropped his hand with a sigh.

“You need to sleep, Liam.”

“I just did.”

Damon sighed, feeling too tired himself to argue. He knew that it was nearly impossible to get Liam to do something he didn’t want to and that he should probably just give up and go to bed, but he also knew the last thing he wanted was to watch Liam’s health crumble.

“What if I slept with you?” Damon finally asked. “Would that help?”

Liam raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“You know, slept in the same bed with you.”

Damon waited for a moment, worried that it sounded too much like he was accusing him of being afraid of the dark, but then to his surprise Liam nodded slowly. His eyes were wide as he briefly rolled his lip between his teeth, looking almost embarrassed, but relieved at the same time. “Alright.”

Damon again offered Liam his hand to help him to his feet. After they had travelled down to the bedrooms and gotten into bed, Damon made sure Liam was asleep before he allowed himself to begin to drift off. He briefly remembered as he began to doze the promise he had made just a short while before to keep his distance from Liam, but being in bed with him wasn’t about intimacy, it was about preserving his sanity. Besides, Damon didn’t want to sleep on his own either. They were just making sure that they both felt safe and that didn’t have to mean anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter is too cutesy and for the bed sharing trope. my beta fell through more or less so I can't tell if it's shitty or not, but c'est la vie ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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